Certain Moments
by HeyyTyler
Summary: They are periods of time that everyone– every man, woman, and child on this earth– experiences. A moment where if you had chosen one path, things would have gone entirely differently. That fragile moment when you unknowingly make one small decision that impacts your entire life is what I like to call a certain moment. And every single one I can remember is what led me to her.
1. Prologue

Certain Moments: Prologue

"_I could have. What does this phrase mean? At any given moment in our lives, there are certain things that could have happened, but didn't. The magic moments go unrecognized and then, suddenly, the hand of destiny changes everything."_

_-Paulo Coelho_

I don't believe in coincidences. I don't believe in luck. I don't believe in love at first sight or 'The One'. I don't believe in the supernatural, beyond those things I have experienced for myself. My least favorite subject in school was Divination because I was pretty sure it was a load of shit. But I do believe, I will always believe, in certain moments.

They are periods of time that everyone– every man, woman, and child on this earth– experiences. A moment where if you had chosen one path, things would have gone entirely differently. They're life-changing. That fragile moment when you're at a crossroads, when you unknowingly make one small decision that impacts your entire life, is what I like to call a certain moment.

I've experienced tons of them, I can recount all of the ones that lead me to _her_. But, you see, that's the thing about these certain moments. The thing that makes them really, incredibly special– They're fragile, much like the delicately woven web of a spider. You aren't aware when they're being intricately created. They can appear as tangles at first glance, until you shift your view and you see the true complexity of it. Most people don't pay them any attention–they're fleeting, you see– until they've been flung away into the past and are completely unreachable, isolated, and alone once more. They leave quickly, before they're noticed, and leave you to attempt to fix the irreparable damage they sometimes make. These certain moments hide in the past, only to be seen and recognized for what they truly are in memories.


	2. Chapter 1

Both my father and mother attended Hogwart's as children. But long ago, some ancient wizard had attended Durmstrang instead and thus, upon my birth, my name was put on the list for both schools. Of course, I immediately felt drawn to Durmstrang. I had heard, at the precocious age of eight, that students at Durmstrang learned how to perform Dark magic, while at Hogwarts they were merely taught to defend themselves against the Dark Arts. Being the son of a Death Eater through and through, I told my father immediately that I was to attend Durmstrang.

But, as they say, the best laid plans. The day I was supposed to accept my owl from Durmstrang, I was being obnoxious, tormenting one of the house elves as I flew overhead on my broom. Father had long ago disabled human and non-human apparition within the house, due to some mysterious incident he refused to speak of. Father was entertaining some "extremely important guests", which I knew to mean either Death Eaters or ministry officials. I never could tell the difference between the two, both severe-looking and malicious. I turned a corner in one of the halls, speeding up as the little creature beneath me tried to duck as I dove for him, boxing one of his ears. As I whipped around the corner, I turned it a bit too tightly, raking my broom across the nice walls of our house and sending at least three of mother's priceless china plates crashing to the floor. They shattered immediately, the beautifully painted backgrounds fracturing, creating a loud noise in the house and undoubtedly interrupting my father's meeting.

The sense of foreboding I felt was indescribable. My father, for the most part, was a man I admired– he was unafraid to stand by his beliefs, he knew how to manipulate people into doing what he wanted. I admired him for these things, until his anger was directed at me.

As the house elf scampered off, father rounded the corner, his face red with anger, a vein throbbing in his usually porcelain forehead.

My stomach dropped and I cowered in fear, trying desperately to hide the broom behind my back, scooting the pieces of china away with my foot. I gave him a guilty look.

My father exploded, his voice booming in the hall, "How many times have I told you not to fly in the house? Why the _fuck_ can't you listen, boy? What's wrong with you? I have extremely important guests in this house, who you've now inconvenienced! I might not get this deal and then we might be living on the streets! Do you understand that, Draco? Is there any room in that tiny brain of yours to comprehend what you've done? You are an embarrassment to this family!"

He continued to scream, his face becoming more red with each word until it turned purple and he said the worst, most dreaded words possible, "You will go to Hogwarts, as your mother wished, where we can make sure you don't further embarrass us!"

A small part of me shriveled and died as those words were spoken. I had had my entire life planned around going to Durmstrang. It wasn't fair! He was clearly misplacing his frustration and yelling at me more than he should. But, instead of giving me a chance to say this, he sent me to bed without dinner.

A few hours later, as I was staring at the pale blue ceiling of my room, I heard a light knock on the door.

"Come in, mother." I called, knowing that it was about time for her to check on me. She always did after father yelled at me. It was one of the small ways she showed she cared without getting in the way of my father.

My breathtaking mother entered the room, her blonde hair pinned back elegantly to show the aristocratic features on her face. She perched herself beside me on the bed, holding my hand in hers. "Draco, we fixed the plates."

I felt a bit of gratitude toward my mother. She knew that I had been worried I would make her angry too.

She continued, her voice soft. "You know your father didn't mean those things. He's just stressed, darling."

I sighed. "I know mother, but sometimes I just wish he didn't take it out on me. I do believe him sometimes, you know."

"Oh sweetheart," My mother's unlined face turned to one of compassion. "He truly doesn't mean it. You must know that. He loves you, Lucius does. It's just–"

She stopped momentarily, trying to find the words I already knew were coming; I mouthed them along with her as she said them.

"It's just in his own special way."

I gave another sigh, "Yes, I know mother." I paused briefly, crossing one foot over my ankle and putting my hands behind my head. "I suppose I'm not going to Durmstrang, though, am I?"

I silently cursed the tiny note of hope in my voice as I said the words.

My mother stroked my hair back, a definite clue that she was about to give me bad news. "No, I'm afraid not, honey. But we will go and get your Hogwarts things tomorrow."

I nodded and she, realizing the conversation was over, got up quietly and went to the door. As she gave me one last look before she left, her voice was overwhelmingly prideful, "You're going to look so dashing in the Slytherin colors."


	3. Chapter 2

For those of you wondering, this will be a simple, sweet fic about serendipity and fate.

Also, I don't own any of the characters in this fic. This is the disclaimer for every chapter in this fiction.

Thanks.

Chapter Two

My first day of school, I made a few friends and a couple of enemies.

I walked into the great hall after taking a horrendous boat ride with that great oaf Hagrid. Really, couldn't they have found a simpler way to transport us that didn't involve that smelly man?

I was grumbling out loud to Crabbe and Goyle, much to their amusement, when I noticed two people beside me. The first I spotted for a Weasley, a type of person my father had warned me to steer clear of. And beside him, I heard someone say, was the famous Harry Potter.

Seeing an opportunity both for hilarity and a famous friend, I introduced myself to the two, gesturing to my companions as I had seen my father do so often. "It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." I paused dramatically as the rest of our classmates gasped. Some idiot lump of a boy, I think his name was Longbottom, felt the need to repeat what I had just said. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." I said my name with the same confidence I had seen my father exude over the years, knowing it would have a powerful affect on the people I was with.

I was half right.

The red-haired weasel seemed to cower a bit, but his awkwardly skinny companion with the skewed glasses didn't seem the least bit fazed. I wondered idly if he hadn't heard me.

The redhead then made a snorting sound and I felt immediately defensive. How dare he laugh at my name? I already knew he was a Weasley and I hadn't teased him about it. But that was about to change.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley."

The boy immediately turned a surprisingly violent shade of red. I felt pleasure in the pit of my stomach, knowing I had embarrassed him more than he had embarrassed me. Father would be proud.

I continued, deciding to let Harry know that I could be his friend and help him get in good with the right kind of people, just as my father was always talking about. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." I gave Weasley another glare for good measure, just to make sure Harry knew exactly who the wrong sort were. "I can help you with that." I offered him my hand to shake, another thing I had seen my father do before.

His answer was astonishing. He gave my hand a disgusted look, as if there was slime covering my palm. There wasn't; I had washed my hands before leaving the train. "I think I can figure out the wrong sort for myself, thanks." He gave me a look that clearly stated that _I_ was the wrong sort.

Knowing that if I stayed there much longer, the rest of our classmates would laugh and I would have already embarrassed father, I stalked back to Crabbe and Goyle, telling them that Harry Potter was clearly mental and was to be avoided, and tormented, from now on.

That was just a small bump in the road, though, because we were soon being sorted in the Great Hall. I couldn't wait to be put in Slytherin and seated next to them. They looked sleek in their green and silver ties, their eyes cunning and sharp beside the other houses.

Not a moment after the hat had been placed on my head did it scream "Slytherin!" at a volume that rivaled that of my father's. Soon, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and Tracey Davis. Looking around, I saw that I knew most of their parents as people who worked with my father. I smirked at them. This was going to be a fun group.

Later, in the common room, I found myself immediately catapulted to the top of the first-year Slytherin hierarchy. I had no idea if it had to do with my father or my charmingly good looks and how good I looked in green and silver, or my confidence, which I radiated. Perhaps it had to do with my wit or my ability to tear people down with a single, well-placed comment. Maybe it was even my excellently performed hexes, which I had shown off right after dinner.

I didn't ask; it didn't matter. I was on top, with Zabini at my right and Parkinson, who had apparently decided to cling to me, at my left. It would be the nine of us from then on. It was how it was meant to be. For me, being a leader just felt _right._ I had a gang at my back and knew I could spend the next seven years with these people. They would do whatever I said and I would make sure of it.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

I sat in the Slytherin common room, my girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, perched atop my lap as Blaise, Daphne, and the other fifth years laughed at a particularly humorous joke I had told.

At that moment, I looked up to see the time on the clock. I quickly shoved Pansy off my lap and hurried off to my next class, knowing it was somewhat of a walk. Behind me, I heard my friends readying to follow me, but I didn't bother waiting. I wasn't going to be responsible for them getting to class on time.

I walked along the crowded hallways alone, slipping through different secret passages. While pushing past a group of irritatingly slow first-years, I caught the shine of red in my periphery. I whipped my face toward the source. It was then I saw her, _truly_ saw her.

She was a fourth-year, I knew. I saw her get sorted a few years back, the hat nearly engulfing her tiny face. She was beautiful already, her red hair blazing in beautifully vivid hues, her face lovely and smooth.

I took a moment to mentally kick myself for making a mortal enemy out of her brother. I had been blinded by my hatred for three whole years. I watched as she moved along the corridor, her red hair flowing behind her, a smile on her face as she spoke to one of her friends, her brown eyes alight. She took a step forward and I couldn't help but admire her legs.

And then, she was gone. She had been enveloped by the mass of students in the hall.

I shook myself out of my stupor and carried along down the hallway, taking another secret passageway to my Transfiguration class. I mentally scolded myself; I was overreacting and I knew it. She was beautiful, yes, but many women were. It was the hormones. Malfoys did not obsess over girls. Girls were infatuated with Malfoys.

I had a hard time concentrating in Transfiguration. I hadn't slept much the night before and thoughts of Ginny Weasley were still occupying my mind. I was supposed to be turning a mouse into a harmonica, but mine hadn't changed yet, except for the fact that it now sounded like a mouth organ when it squeaked. Hermione Granger, who sat a few feet away, had already changed multiple mice into a variety of instruments including a clarinet, a flute, and a small harp, and back again.

Feeling irritated that Granger had done what I couldn't, I spoke to her, "Hey Granger, McGonagall said to change it into a harmonica, why don't you stop showing off for a few moments?"

"Shut up, Malfoy, you're just jealous because Hermione's better than you." Retorted Ron. I sighed a bit, why couldn't this idiot come up with better insults?

I felt like reminding him that there were a variety of different ways to measure who was best and that I came out on top in most of them, but instead opted for simply giving him a dirty hand sign, my thin middle finger raising toward the ceiling.

"Mister Malfoy!" My stomach dropped at the sound of Professor McGonagall seeing that I had just given Weasley the finger. "We do _not_ show our classmates that gesture. Twenty points from Slytherin and I will see you in detention on Saturday."

She continued making her rounds, gasping in surprise at the lovely work of Ms. Granger.

I rolled my eyes, picked up my things, and left class early. There wasn't much else she could do to me.

I was in my dormitory, lounging on my bed, when Pansy found me. She crawled up to join me, wrapping her arms around my body and kissing my neck. Pansy, despite her strange nose, was beautiful, I had to admit. Her dark hair was cut in a sophisticated way, her dark blue eyes large behind a fringe of eyelashes, her lips supple and pink. I was attracted to her, but more than that, I lived for the attention.

And oh, how Pansy showered me with attention.

She put her mouth to my ear and whispered, "I'm sorry you had a bad day."

I turned on my side to kiss her, taking her face in my hands, curling my fingers through the silky strands of her hair. I opened my eyes to see her blue ones looking back at me and I could feel a wicked grin spread across her face through the kiss.

She pushed me back onto the bed and straddled me, reaching down to pull her school shirt over her head. Beneath, she wore a beautifully elegant lacy bra. Pansy gave me a shy smile and grabbed my hand, placing it on the lace.

And then, I knew what was about to happen.

"Well, how was it, mate?" Blaise asked me. We were sitting at a table in a secluded section of the library. I was trying to concentrate on writing a Potions essay that Snape had assigned us, but apparently Blaise was more concerned with my newfound sex life.

"You know how it was. You've been having sex since third year." I responded, not looking up from my disparagingly blank parchment.

Blaise sighed at the memory, "Ah, Gemma. She was a beauty."

"Yes, and three years your senior." I retorted, still finding it weird that he had fucked a sixteen year old our third year. But, that was Blaise.

"But I've never fucked Pansy. So tell me, what was it like?" Blaise leaned forward eagerly, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. Few things could get him this excited. Sexual conquests were one of them.

I looked up from where I'd been staring at my inkwell. "It was wet." I responded, my face serious.

"You know that's not what I'm asking."

"Oh, you were asking a question? I wasn't aware. What was it you wanted to ask?" I responded sarcastically, knowing that if I refused details long enough, Blaise would get bored and leave.

"Yes, I was asking about the sex you had with Pansy!" Blaise said in a dangerously loud voice. It was a challenge and we both knew it. We were now about to see who could last the longest. I only hoped I could seem unembarrassed long enough to bore Blaise.

I began writing my essay once again and remarked, "That's a bit intrusive of you, don't you think?"

He gave a loud, irritated sigh. "No, I don't think that. I think that I'm your best mate and I've told you about all the sex I've had."

I gave him a surprised look, "Who said we were best mates? I must have missed the memo."

He gave me a look of mock hurt. "Why, Draco Lucius Malfoy, haven't you seen the declarations of love I've been posting about the school? I damn nearly plastered the Great Hall, hoping you would see my proclamations and know that I only have eyes for you."

"Now that you mention it, I may have seen a few of those." I responded with a grin.

And like that, Blaise had become bored with the topic and moved on. He was a pretty wizard, but not the most attentive.

I cursed and slammed the book of potions shut.

Blaise raised his eyebrows, "Did I say something to offend you, darling?"

Grabbing my bag off the back of my chair, I swung it over my shoulder and spared him a brief, sardonic look. "No, I have to go to detention. It's Saturday, remember?"

I cursed when I saw Filch standing in the hallway, waiting for me to serve detention with him. Why couldn't I have served it with Snape? He always let me fuck around for the majority of the period, instead of doing actual labor. As I approached, I saw Filch was talking to someone.

Someone with bright red hair.

My heart stopped. This was not _fucking_ happening.

I took a deep breath, moving my bag higher onto my shoulder, and gave myself a mental pep talk. Calm yourself, Draco. There's nothing to freak out about. She's just a girl. You don't even care. You're fucking Pansy, remember? It's fun. You like it.

Oh, god. If only I believed my own lies.

As I joined them, Filch's gruff voice scraped my eardrums, "Right, now that Mr. Malfoy has decided to grace us with his presence, we'll get to it.'' He pointed to a room down the hall. The trophy room, great. "The two of you will be cleaning all the trophies in that room. As well as the cases and the floor."

"Just the two of us?" I asked. I couldn't tell if that was a note of hope or panic in my voice.

"That's what I said, Malfoy. No one else was stupid enough to get into trouble this early in the year."

I sighed, glanced at Ginny, and walked down the hall to my doom.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

We'd been alone in the trophy room for about half an hour, both of us grumbling about exactly how nasty the school had let the trophies get, when I finally broke the silence.

"So, what'd you do?"

She looked up at me, from where she'd been scrubbing a House Cup from the 1970's, her dark eyes surprised I had even talked to her. A blush appeared on her cheeks and she shook her head, apparently deciding not to tell me.

"Oh, come on. It surely can't be that bad. A pretty, innocent girl like you doesn't seem like she could get into much trouble."

She gave a laugh, her voice sparkling. And then, she gave me the most wicked grin I've ever seen. "Didn't you hear, Malfoy? Girls like me are the ones who get into loads of trouble."

"Oh, I didn't know Ginny Weasley was a bad girl." I commented, smirking at her.

She seemed to ponder this, "I was under the impression that Draco Malfoy knew _all_ the bad girls."

I gave a laugh, "So was I." I continued polishing the Quidditch Cup I held in my hands. "So what was it?"

She blushed again, "I hexed your friend Nott. He deserved it!"

I gave a chuckle, "I'm sure he did. What'd he do?"

Her pretty face pouted, her pink bottom lip stuck out woefully, "He tried to flip up my skirt with a spell! So I hexed him."

Smirking, I asked her teasingly, "Aren't you used to boys pulling things like that?"

She gave me a self-satisfied smirk, "Well, yes. But not Slytherin boys."

"Well, you might have to get used to it." I said, my tone playfully grievous and understanding.

"What makes you say that? I think Nott got the point."

"Yes, but now you have me to worry about. And trust me, Ginny, I don't give up as easily." I gave her a smile and went back to polishing the trophy; satisfied to see her cheeks redden again as she thought about my words.

I was once again sitting in the common room with my friends. Crabbe and Goyle stood in the corner tormenting some poor first year. Blaise had Daphne pinned up against a wall as he flirted with her. She, of course, was flirting back as usual. Millicent, Nott, and Davies were nowhere to be seen, but I didn't particularly care. And, naturally, Pansy was practically making out with my neck as I tried desperately to finish my homework.

The common room slowly began to empty. The first years having escaped, Crabbe and Goyle finally became bored and lumbered off to bed. Daphne followed them eventually, after she heavily hinted she would rather sleep with Blaise in his room, because she needed her beauty sleep.

Pansy kept tugging on my sleeve, begging for attention I didn't have the time, or inclination, to give. I grabbed my books and parchment, stuffed them in my bag, and went upstairs to finish my essay.

As soon as I had entered my room, taking in the silver and emerald hangings, I knew I'd forgotten something. My quill and inkwell.

I swore before heading to my trunk and looking for a spare, but couldn't find one. Rolling my eyes in irritation, I trudged back down the stairs, hoping that perhaps Pansy had also gone to bed.

I entered the common room, crossing over to the secluded table I'd been working at and grabbing my stuff, before I headed back to my room.

I got halfway across the common room before I realized I wasn't alone. I heard the faintly familiar sounds of grunting coming from one of the couches. My curiosity got the better of me and I silently padded over to the dark corner.

Peeking around the couch back, my heart leapt in surprise.

Pansy was lying flat on her back, her eyes closed, and mouth open in wordless bliss. Atop her was Blaise, she had her legs wrapped around his torso as he roughly pounded into her.

Neither of them had noticed me. In true Malfoy fashion, I weighed my options. I could either wait for a better, more embarrassing chance to expose them, or I could do it now. If I did it now, they would eventually come groveling back. If I waited to embarrass them, they wouldn't. I couldn't lose them as friends.

"Pansy, I knew you were a slut, but I didn't think you were that desperate." I said it quietly, but it still echoed through the empty common room.

Had I not entirely surprised the both of them, I expect the most clever response would have been "Well, I did sleep with you, Draco", but luckily neither of them had much to say.

Her blue eyes flew open in panic and she pushed Blaise off of her, clearly scrambling both for her clothing and a lie.

Blaise, my best mate, didn't seem to care at all. He just gave me a lazy grin and zipped his pants.

And in all honesty, I didn't care either. Pansy had never been someone I loved or even cared about. Also, I'd been having naughty thoughts about a certain redhead for the past few days.

But this was going to be a lesson in backstabbing Malfoys. And I would make sure they wouldn't forget it.

No one pulls this shit on Draco Malfoy and gets away with it.

I walked out of the common room and into the corridor, wanting to avoid the awkward confrontation that would be Blaise entering our shared dormitory when he finished up with Pansy.

In the morning, I would tell our friends and they would be alienated from the group. I knew our friends; they wouldn't pick Pansy and Blaise over me. They wouldn't dare. In a few weeks' time, after I felt the two had learned their lesson, I'd graciously accept their apologies and move on.

It was things like this, knowing exactly how to play a situation, that made me a Malfoy.

I wandered around the corridors, thoughts drifting and sliding in and out of my head. My mind swam to my father and mother; I made a mental note to write to them later. I hadn't heard much from them recently, but I was sure father was very busy as usual. I thought about what Blaise had done; he had known about Pansy and I, of course, and that made the betrayal sting just a bit. I'm sure, if given the chance, he would simply respond that he'd wanted to know how she was in bed, as demonstrated by his prying questions. And since I wouldn't answer, he'd felt he had no other choice.

I rolled my eyes; Blaise was a hormonal teenager who couldn't be tamed. He'd already fucked at least half of the females in the school. I smirked, well in a few weeks' time he'll know not to mess with me again. As for Pansy, I never expected her to be entirely loyal to me. I'm sure she could have been, but I don't trust people to be faithful.

I made a turn near a secret passageway and began climbing a circular staircase, satisfied to know that soon they would both rue the day they'd ever thought they could pull one over on Draco Malfoy.

What bullshit. Complete and utter crap.

I made another turn, walking on the fourth floor along a long, deserted hallway. To my left, great stained glass windows rose to the ceiling, allowing plenty of colored light to filter in.

All of a sudden, I heard footsteps walking toward me. Glancing around, I found an empty room and ducked into it, not wanting to be found out by a teacher this late at night.

I hid behind the door in the classroom, peeking out into the hallway through a crack in the door. The footsteps became louder and through the crack I saw the flash of a familiar color.

I stepped into the hall and watched her take a few more strides down the corridor before I called out, "It's a bit late for good girls to be out, don't you think?"

She turned around and smiled at me, "I thought we already had this discussion, Malfoy?"

I grinned back, "Did we? I still haven't been able to add you to my list of bad girls."

She was now just inches away, smiling up into my face with her mischievous grin, "And why is that?" She whispered it, the words gently floating upwards to my ears.

I leaned downward so our faces were merely an inch apart, "I haven't seen you do anything naughty. How could I know you're telling the truth? Prove it."

"And how do you want me to prove it, Malfoy?" She asked, her eyes glinting in the light that filtered through the stained glass windows.

"If I told you, then you wouldn't really be proving it, would you?"

She shrugged and backed up, "No, I suppose not. What are you doing out here anyway, Malfoy?"

The change of topic was sudden, but I decided to roll with it. "I needed to take a walk to clear my head. What are you doing out here?"

She smirked at me, as if a funny idea came to mind. "The same. What did you need to think about?"

I hesitated, "You first."

She must have seen the reluctance in my eyes because she nodded and explained, slumping to the ground and leaning against the wall, her head titled so she could stare at the night's sky through the large windows. "I couldn't sleep. My brother, Charlie…" She gave me a look that clearly said she didn't know how much she could tell me. After all, we were on different sides of a war.

"I know your family's in the Order, Ginny. Just like you know who my father is. But, you see, the thing about family is that _we_ aren't _them_."

"What are you saying? That you don't agree with your father?" Her eyes were sparkling in interest, at the thought of unraveling the mystery that is me. I decided to let her do it.

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. I think that Purebloods should be on top. But I don't agree with the fact that we're following a half-blood madman to destroy our race. Did you know the Dark Lord is a half-blood? It's hypocrisy at the finest level."

Her voice was quiet as if she was stuck in some long-forgotten memory when she spoke, "No, I didn't know that."

"So what happened to Charlie?"

"He was sent on a mission a few days ago, but we haven't heard from him since. My family's getting very worried."

"Naturally. Do you want me to see if I can find out what happened to him?" I offered before I'd even thought about the words. I would have taken them back, but then I saw her face.

Her eyes were lit with hope, "You would really do that?"

I couldn't take it back, I just couldn't. "Yes."

"So why are you walking around the castle at night?" She asked, and then gasped in surprise, "You don't have one of your bad girls in that room, do you?"

I gave a soft laugh, "No. I caught Pansy fucking Blaise in the common room and had to get some air."

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed, "But I thought _you_ were fucking Pansy?"

"So did I."

Understanding dawned in that little red head of hers and she let out a soft sound of realization. And then came the fiery temper she was so renowned for. "She cheated on you? That bitch! You want me to hex her?"

I laughed again, realizing that this was the first time in a long while that I had laughed so freely. "No, that's not necessary. They'll be shunned for a few weeks and then they'll both come crawling back."

Ginny gave me a smug look, "The old cold shoulder, works every time. It makes you look great too, doesn't it? The way they always come back, begging for forgiveness."

"And what would you know of revenge?"

"A hell of a lot more than you think. I told you, I'm not innocent."

I sat quietly next to her for a while, staring at her fiery hair. At one point, I picked up a lock of it and began twirling it around in my fingers. She gave me a small, shy smile at that and leaned her head against my shoulder.

We sat like that for some time, the two of us. And I couldn't help but think how _happy_ I was with her there in the hallway. I wasn't sure, but I think it had been a long time since I'd been truly happy.

"Well, Red, one good thing came out of this night." I finally broke the silence after what could have been hours.

She rubbed her head sleepily against my shoulder and replied, her voice thick, "What's that?"

"You're going to know what happened to Charlie soon." "And," I added, in a voice so quiet I wasn't sure she heard me, "And I got to spend time with you."

I didn't know it then, after all, as I'd said before, Divination is complete shit, but that night would eventually lead to a complicated relationship between myself and the beautiful Ginny Weasley.

**Review. I'm sorry, but I don't get satisfaction from merely seeing that nearly a hundred people have viewed this fic so far. **I took the time to write this, the least you can do is take the time to write a few lines of encouragement.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The next morning, despite having had very little sleep, I woke early and sat at my desk, my quill scribbling innocent and seemingly harmless lines to my mother and father in the elegant script I had been trained to use. I asked them about the weather, about my father's work at the ministry and mother's magical chess club. I asked mother about the renovations to the manor and if they would be finished in time for us to enjoy them at Christmas time. And then, hidden in all those innocently swooping letters, I asked the question I had meant to write:

_Father, _

_I've been told by a few of my sources that we have had the pleasure of capturing a certain dragon hunting, red-haired, blood traitor. Is this true? If so, please give the Dark Lord my congratulations._

I continued the letter by asking mother if we could arrange to have a few of my friends over during Christmas break. I knew, of course, that she would grant me this wish, but I had always found it was best to ask in advance.

Finally, after another page of filling them in on the mundane details of my life, I signed it with love and respect, my name drawn intricately at the bottom.

I then dressed and left my dormitory, immediately on the hunt for Daphne, knowing Pansy would have wanted to get to her first. I found the blonde sitting at the breakfast table, drinking a carton of pumpkin juice.

She smiled at my approach and wiped her mouth off as she greeted me, "Hey Draco! Do you know what's in this juice?"

I gave her a patronizing smile, "That's pumpkin juice, Daphne. So _pumpkins_ are in it."

Her eyes widened at her mistake, "Oh. So how has your day been?"

"Well, I just woke up, so not much has happened. But last night was pretty fucking shitty."

"What happened, Draco?" Her pretty blue eyes filled with concern.

I suddenly hesitated at the idea of telling her. She had the biggest mouth in our group, but she also had a massive crush on Blaise. And Pansy was her best friend. How much would this hurt her?

I grabbed her slender hands in mine and searchingly looked into her eyes, "Daphne, I need to tell you something, but it's going to hurt."

Her bright smile faded from her face and, for once, she was silent.

I continued, "Last night, I caught Pansy cheating on me with Blaise."

Tears welled into her big blue eyes and her bottom lip began to tremble, "No. No, she wouldn't!"

I looked regretfully at her, "She would. And you know it."

"Oh my god! That _slut_!" Daphne screamed, immediately shooting out of her chair and storming out of the dining hall. People around the dining hall stopped all activity and stared at the both of us. I simply shrugged at the questioning looks and watched Daphne stride purposefully out of the hall, occasionally stopping to shove someone, using both of her hands, out of her way. And suddenly, I knew my problem was finished. Daphne would take care of the rest.

I smiled a bit to myself and, reaching over to her place, finished off the rest of her pumpkin juice.

Later that day, I was walking to class alone, using my usual route of slipping through closed corridors and secret passages. I came to a place where four corridors intersected. Hundreds of students seemed to be packed into the small space, but over the crowd I could see Blaise approaching me from the hallway to my right.

Suddenly, the students dispersed, as if they had never existed. I saw Pansy in the corridor to my left, her face sour. I smirked at both of them and shouldered my bag, knowing Daphne had quickly ensured no one would talk to them for the next few weeks.

And then, Daphne appeared in the hallway facing me. She glanced around and, seeing Blaise and Pansy there, dropped her bags and started running.

But, instead of running away, as I expected her to do, she began running toward me. I just barely had time to put out my hands and catch her as she jumped into the air and straddled me, her hands running through my hair as she brushed her lips to mine.

I don't know who it was to deepen the kiss, but soon my tongue was memorizing the corners of her mouth, searching in hungrily. I ran my hands along her body.

At some point, it became less about making Pansy and Blaise jealous and more about _us._ She was beautiful and I couldn't deny I was attracted to her.

I pushed her against the wall, still holding her up as I slid my fingers along her waist, lifting them to trace over her breasts and along her collarbone.

I pulled back to catch my breath and, glancing around the corridor, saw that Blaise and Pansy had left us. We were completely alone.

Setting her on the ground, I went to pick up my bag and head to class, but I felt a tug on my tie. Daphne sensuously pulled me back to her.

I smirked and lifted her up again, her legs straddling my body as we invaded one another's mouths.

I pulled back suddenly again, my eyes fiery with excitement, my pulse thudding, "We need to go to class, Daph."

She rolled her eyes at me and hopped down, "We can skip." Her eyes raked my body, "There are things I want to explore right now other than the wonders of Charms."

She led me away by my tie to the Room of Requirement. Inside, it was lushly decorated with a fireplace, an expensive-looking carpet, and, most importantly, a bed.

Daphne and I skipped class for the rest of the day.

I planted a gentle kiss on her lips and ran a hand down her leg, bringing it upward so that it was behind my back.

I pulled back again, watching her as she rested her head in my hands and smiled at me. As I stared down at her, her blonde hair sticky from perspiration of what we'd just done, her blue eyes sparkling, I couldn't help but think I would be perfectly happy doing this with her for the rest of my life.

I wasn't in love with her, but it was fun.

It may have moved too fast for some people, but that was the world I lived in. If you weren't moving, you were dying. And I was far too young to die.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

It was a few days before my father wrote back. His answer, scribbled on a separate page than my mother's detailed essay, was simple:

_Draco,_

_Your sources are half-correct. That blood traitor was seriously injured, but managed to escape. Our forces are scouring the area for him. I will give the Dark Lord your wishes._

_ Lucius_

I quickly scribbled a note to Ginny:

_Meet me tonight at midnight. You know where._

Stuffing the note in my pocket, I headed to lunch. My footsteps echoed on the flagstone steps as I walked upstairs from the dungeon. The green lanterns flickered as I passed.

The hallway was bustling with the usual lunchtime crowd. I had entered through the doors farthest from the Slytherin table, ensuring that I would have to walk past the Gryffindor's to get there.

I saw her sitting at the table, tossing her red hair as she laughed at some boy's joke. Passing, I slipped the note into her pocket, squeezing her hand as I passed to let her know it was from me. Our gazes locked for a second before I moved down the aisle toward my table, our exchange unnoticed by everyone.

Daphne greeted me at the Slytherin table with a friendly smile. Sitting with her were Nott, Davies, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent. Blaise and Pansy were once again absent and I idly wondered how they'd been feeding themselves since the night I'd caught them together.

"Ready for the match today, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked, flexing his beater muscles.

I grinned, "It's Hufflepuff. Should be a piece of cake."

Goyle grunted in what was apparently agreement. I cast him a sardonic look. It was a good thing the two of them were brawny, because they sure as hell didn't have a clue intelligence-wise.

I scarfed down two sandwiches and three goblets filled with water. Beside me, Daphne made surprised noises at the amount I ate. I just gave her a grin.

She smiled back before getting up from the bench and kissing me on the cheek. "I'll see you at the match Draco. Good luck."

The match was as simple as I predicted.

Hufflepuffs really don't have a clue, I thought as I circled the match hundreds of feet above the ground, my green Quidditch jacket flapping in the wind. I watched the match below turn from what was supposed to be a nice competition between Houses turn into a complete and total massacre. Every few seconds, Slytherin would score. Eventually, the score had become over one hundred to zero, a score so high that the crowd had stopped cheering and booing at Slytherin's every move.

Suddenly, I saw a flash of gold whiz by the ear of Hufflepuff's seeker. I sped through the air and zipped around the goal posts to get it. I heard the other seeker moving in behind me. I sped up and caught the snitch, feeling the fragile wings fold inwards at the touch of my fingers, the cool gold feeling pleasant to my sweaty hand.

Madame Hooch called the match with a blow of her whistle and I did a victory lap before landing on the pitch with the rest of my team. The stands began to empty and in the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of bright red again.

My head snapped to the side, as it always did when I saw that color, in time to see Ginny dressed in a sweater and jeans, leave the field. A boy walked beside her, his hand at her waist.

That night, Slytherin held a party in the common room to celebrate the win. Seeing as it was an easy win, I suspect we were holding a party less to pay tribute to the hard work of the team and more for the booze.

I was halfway through my third firewhiskey when Daphne dragged me upstairs to the dorm and pushed me onto the bed. My mind was becoming slightly fuzzy as she began unzipping my pants. Being the hormonal teenager I was, my member immediately stood to attention as she began to kiss me.

I was in the middle of fucking Daphne when I saw the time. Five minutes past midnight. There was something I had to do, I knew it. I looked down at Daphne, admiring how beautiful she was.

But, when I thought of beauty, all I could think of was a certain redhead.

My heart stopped thumping for a moment as I swore viciously, scaring Daphne. I jumped off my bed, threw on my clothes, and was out the door before she even knew what was happening.

I ran down the hallway, slipping and sliding on the marble and granite in my drunken daze. I checked my pockets. I hadn't remembered to grab the letter from my father, but I hoped my word would be enough to spur Ginny into action. I reached the hallway where we'd had our first late-night encounter at about fifteen minutes past midnight.

The hall was empty, the stained glass windows casting colorful shadows on the walls.

My head was spinning from the exertion and I thought I might throw up. I slid down the side of a wall and put my head between my knees in an effort to keep my dinner down.

Suddenly, I felt a hand rubbing my back.

"Malfoy?" It was Ginny's voice. "Have you been drinking? You smell like alcohol and… Is that sex? Have you been having sex?" Her voice was incredulous.

I grinned through my drunken haze. "Call me Draco." I slurred.

"What?"

"You're always calling me by my last name." I did a poor imitation of her lovely voice, "Malfoy this, Malfoy that. My name's Draco."

"I know who you are." She responded, clearly confused.

"And yes," I continued rambling. "I am a little tipsy. And I was fucking Daphne."

"Well, what about my brother?" She demanded.

I gave her a confused look. "I haven't been fucking your brother. Does he find me attractive? I could keep him in mind for the experimental bisexual years during university."

She just gave me a very angry look.

Suddenly, I was incredibly sober. I didn't want her mad with me. "Shit. I'm sorry, Red. My father says your brother is injured, but hasn't been captured yet. But not for lack of trying on the Death Eaters part."

Her eyes widened in worry, "Why the _fuck_ didn't you tell me this earlier? They could have captured and killed him in the last few hours, Draco!"

I gave her an exasperated look, "I might stick my neck out for you, Red, but I don't know your brother. If they catch me giving you this information, I could get killed. And, if your holier-than-thou Order of the Phoenix figured out where you'd gotten this information, do you really think they'd believe it? Or would they suspect it was a trap?"

She stayed silent, so I lowered my voice and continued explaining, "If anyone had seen me telling you this, we both would have been royally fucked. You just have to hope your brother lasted the last 12 hours. There was no other option."

Ginny disappeared for a few moments to wake a few of the other Gryffindor's and send a message, with promises she would return soon. I took the time to try to sober up. The fear and shock of her anger had momentarily helped, but after she left I'd felt the dizziness and sickness return.

I waved my wand and poured some water gently into my mouth while lying on my back, watching the stars twinkle through the stained glass window.

About half an hour later, I heard footsteps in the corridor that I immediately identified as Ginny's.

She sat down beside me, letting me rest my head in her lap. We were silent for a while, each, I think, secretly enjoying the other's company. She was my guilty pleasure.

"How did you get your father to tell you that information, Draco? Doesn't he know you don't agree with him?" She whispered, her fingers tangling in my hair.

I shifted on the ground and gave a humorless laugh, "Have you ever met my father?"

"Once, briefly." Her answer was short and guarded.

I furrowed my brows and then remembered exactly why Ginny in particular would have cause to hate my father. The diary. How could I have been such an insensitive ass? I continued as if it hadn't happened, knowing she didn't want to talk about it. "Well, in case you didn't notice, he doesn't have the most open of minds. I lied and agreed with him all of these years out of self-preservation."

"You really think he would kill you, then?" Ginny's voice was shocked, and why not? She'd come from a family with seemingly unconditional love.

"Lucius loves me, in his way, I think. If he had known that I disagree with his politics, it would have made living with him hell. That's why I lied. But if he found out I betrayed him, that I _used_ him, I would be a dead man."

"Well, we can't have that, can we? I expect Daphne would be awfully upset." Ginny replied, her voice holding a strange note.

I glanced up at her, taking in her bright red hair and pretty face, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just saw you with her in the dining hall. She seems awfully attached. That's all I meant."

I sat up beside her and studied her face. She was lying; I could tell. "No, that's not what you meant." I stopped, trying to find the words she truly meant. Dear god, women were difficult. Why couldn't they just speak their minds? Why did they have to play mind games? _Haven't you played your own share of mind games, Draco?_ A voice in my head hissed accusingly. Well, yes, I had. But those were mainly out of jealousy.

Jealousy.

I gave Ginny a look, "You're jealous, aren't you?"

Her face remained completely expressionless, as if she refused to acknowledge me.

I frowned, "But, Red, what about that man with his hand around your waist?"

She gave a short laugh, "You think he means anything? I have guys constantly throwing themselves at me. Your gender is quite pathetic sometimes, you know. But the only guy I'm sneaking out of my dormitory to see at night is _you_."

Those words took a moment to set in. That wasn't possible, was it? The beautiful Red, only sneaking out to see me? And then, a thought stopped me in my tracks. The only girl I was sneaking out to see was her. The only girl I ever saw at night was her.

"Shit." I cursed, the sound echoing down the hallway despite my whisper.

She sighed beside me and then suddenly leaned in and kissed me, her soft lips brushing mine. I felt like I was flying. I was in heaven, experiencing pure, unadulterated bliss at the feel of her lips on mine. I ran my hands gently through the silky strands of her red hair.

I pulled back, resting my forehead on hers. "Daphne is nothing to me, you know that right?" I asked, grabbing her hands. I don't know why, but I had to let her know that.

It was strange, we'd never had any real sort of physical contact, but already I liked her more than any other girl. I liked her more than my other friends. I liked her as _more_ than a friend.

She gave me a small smile, "I figured she was probably just a good fuck to you."

I returned her regretful smile. "Yeah."

"So what do you want to do? About _us_, I mean."

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, suddenly exhausted as I tried to examine any way we could make this work. And it was then that I realized, an ocean of differences and interferences separated Ginny and me. "There's no way we could have a public relationship. Think of all the politics involved, the people who would constantly be pulling us apart. It would put too much stress on the both of us. Your parents, the Order, not to mention Harry Potter, who I've heard has a thing for you –"

"He has a thing for Cho Chang." She interrupted me.

I frowned at that, wondering why she even bothered saying it, but continued speaking. "And the Death Eaters, my father and mother. In all likelihood, if one of them found out, they would want to use us to spy on the other side. And _your brothers._ They detest me."

She gave a laugh, "They sure do."

I gave her a derisive look, she really didn't have to tell me that. "It seems that all we can do is to continue meeting in secret, for now at least."

"For now?" I saw hope spark in those dark eyes and I realized that she felt the same attraction to me as I did to her.

"Well, until we either get tired of each other, run away, or graduate."

"Those aren't the worst of options." Ginny said, smiling.

"No, they definitely aren't." I agreed, pressing my lips to hers once again and feeling like my soul had taken flight.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I awoke the next morning, a Sunday, with a mission. I found myself scouring the halls for her, knowing that there was something I had to do. Eventually, I found her, standing outside the Slytherin dormitory.

Knowing it would be embarrassing for the both of us if I did this in public, I brought her up the my room. Of course, she got the wrong idea and sat on my bed, tempting me. I resisted, keeping in mind the reason why I was doing this.

I sat awkwardly beside her and took her hands, "Daphne. There's something I need to tell you."

Her blue eyes immediately became large with worry, which, of course, did not help the situation one bit.

"Daphne, look, I don't think we should continue doing this."

"But why, Draco? We were having such fun." She looked close to tears. Ginny had been right, I thought ruefully, Daphne was attached.

I knew what the immediate answer would be, but I still found myself scrambling for a lie, "I have a lot of things on my plate right now. And this thing we have is exhausting. I need to cut back on a few things, but unfortunately I can't just quit school."

She looked offended, "So you're cutting back on me. Fine, Draco, have it your way." She jumped off the bed with one more hurtful look and left the dormitory.

Exhausted, I leaned back onto my bed. I should have just left the dormitory and had I known what was going to come next, I might have. But as I said, divination is shit. We mortals aren't meant to know what the future holds.

A few hours later, Blaise flung open the door, closely followed by Pansy. The sound of the door hitting the wall woke me from what had been a very pleasant dream about Ginny. I sat up, surprised, to see them both standing with their eyes on me. Damn, this was going to be awkward. Why couldn't they have come separately?

"Draco, this game isn't funny any more." Blaise began.

I rolled my eyes at him and replied sarcastically, "Really? Because when I caught my girlfriend cheating on me with my best friend, that was a real knee-slapper."

Pansy stepped forward, shoving Blaise out of the way with a hostility that didn't go unnoticed by me. So, their exile hadn't been very good for their relationship. Well, anyone could have told Pansy that. Blaise was not the relationship type. He preferred to hit it and then promptly quit it.

"Draco, we're both very sorry for what we did." She said, her face a mask of remorse. I wasn't sure I believed her. Especially when she not-so-subtly kicked Blaise in the shin to remind him to agree.

But, I had made too many enemies of my close friends lately, with exiling Blaise and Pansy and then hurting Daphne.

I decided to be the bigger man on this topic, knowing that they hadn't meant their apologies. But, like a Malfoy, I was going to let them know I knew.

"Thank you for your apologies. I forgive you and hope we can move on from this. I'll tell the others."

They went to leave, but the sound of my voice stopped them in this tracks, "I do hope that this doesn't leave you with the wrong impression, though." Blaise stopped with his hand on the door handle while Pansy whipped back around, surprised. "I know you don't mean it. It was quite obvious, Pansy. But I've decided to forgive and forget because I pity you. But keep in mind that the two of you are in a precarious position. I'll be watching your every move for mistakes. Now leave." The last two words were a command, one they didn't dare disobey given their current social standing.

A few days later, I met up with Ginny again in our hallway. We couldn't meet every night, though god knows I wanted too. It was too dangerous, too likely to arouse suspicion. Someone would certainly notice that we were sneaking out every night. And I needed at least a few hours of sleep to function in class.

I was walking down the hall–_our_ hall– when I heard her running toward me. I spun around just soon enough to catch her. She had launched herself into the air and was now hugging my neck.

As I felt a wetness seep into the collar of my shirt, I became worried. My voice was soft as I said, "Hey, Red, hey. What's wrong? Why are you crying?" I brought her hands down from around my neck and held them between us, searching her tear-stained face.

Strangely, she seemed to be grinning at me. "We got Charlie." She whispered and then promptly jumped back on me.

I held her there as she wept her tears–tears of joy. I was perplexed. Who the hell cried when they were angry?

"Is there anything else wrong, Red?" I asked, worried there was something she wasn't telling me.

She shook her head against my neck and continued sobbing. How strange.

I put her back on the ground, much to her apparent dismay, and wiped the tears from her eyes with my thumbs as I laid my palms on her face. "Please stop crying." There was a note of begging in my voice.

I think she thought it was amusing because she grinned, "I'm sorry. That was kind of weird, wasn't it?"

Not as weird as the current situation we were in, I thought, because now Ginny was staring up at me, grinning like a madwoman, while the tears still flowed down her face.

"Uh, yeah. Kind of." I responded, still unsure what to do.

She finally stopped crying, wiped the tears away, and sat in our usual spot against the wall. I joined her on the floor, still giving her cautious looks out of the corner of my eye.

"You're not used to girls crying, are you, Draco?"

I gave her a grin and quipped, "Only if they're having an orgasm."

She rolled her eyes at me, "Is that the only thing you do in your spare time, fuck other girls?"

I laughed and then gave her a serious answer, deciding to tell the truth, "No. Most of my time is spent manipulating my friend group or lying to my father or trying to beat Hermione in classes."

She gave me a strange look, "And what do you do for fun?"

"Fun?" I echoed back, wondering what exactly I did do for fun.

"You know, fun. Enjoyment. Amusement. Lighthearted merrymaking."

I laughed at the last one, "I like to read in my spare time."

Ginny gave me a thousand-watt smile this time, as if she was extremely pleased, and relieved, to find me being honest for once. "What are you reading now?"

I thought back to the large stack of books I kept at my bedside and picked one in an attempt not to seem like too much of a freak, "_Innovative Potions of the 15__th__ Century and Onward._"

Ginny gave me a strange look, "_That's_ what you read for _fun?_"

"Well, it's what I'm reading currently. Professor Snape wrote it."

"I thought of something else you should read, Draco." Ginny said, her voice a little too casual.

"What?" I asked, knowing she was up to something.

"A dictionary. So you can lean what the word _fun_ means to the rest of society."

I cleared my throat. "Fun– Enjoyment. Amusement. Lighthearted merrymaking."

I gave her a pointed look and she giggled, one hand cupped over her mouth, her dark eyes bright. "Okay, okay. I get it. Are you interested in potions as a profession?"

I made a face. "Sort of. I want to be an antidote researcher. What do you want to do?"

She gave me a funny grin, "I want to work at St. Mungo's as a healer."

I laughed. "Seriously? We might end up working together in the future."

Her eyes heavily lidded, Ginny gave me a seductive look. "Well, I was kind of hoping we'd do more than _that_ in the future."

I smirked at her and pushed a red lock behind her ear, "We can do more right now, Red."

She gave me a quick wink and pressed her lips to mine. I opened her mouth with my lips, my tongue wrestling hers for dominance as my hands slid over her body, feeling her every beautiful curve. She pulled back, biting my lip, and I let out a low, animalistic growl.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Before we knew it, Christmas break had approached. My time was stretched between classes, cramming for exams, meeting with Ginny, and occasionally tutoring my friends to ensure they didn't fail this year.

The night before my last exam, I snuck out once again to visit Ginny. We'd since moved our nightly dalliances inside a classroom, knowing we'd been tempting danger in the hallway.

I walked down the corridor for what I knew to be the last time this semester.; it was astonishing how quickly four months with her had flown. The moon hung in the sky, this time full and round, and glowed through the stained glass, sending hues of blue and red and green and gold dancing across the dark hall. I marveled at how often I'd been in this hall recently, despite never having any classes in it.

I turned into the room to see Ginny propped up on a desk, her hair a dark crimson color in the moonlight.

She stretched out on finger and beckoned me toward her, her voice rough with desire as she spoke, "Come here, goldilocks." She'd recently taken to calling me ridiculous nicknames relating to my blond hair. I couldn't say I blamed her; after all, I called her Red. I smiled at the nickname and obeyed.

I ran to her and we crashed together, our limbs and lips and tongues tangling together to the point that I forgot who was who. She had that effect on me, the ability to take away all my inhibitions, all my thoughts, all my worries, all my reason. I think that's why I'd felt so attracted to her in the first place. She didn't worry about things, she didn't manipulate people, she didn't resist temptation. It was refreshing, something totally different from the cold, reserved, calculating world I grew up, and still existed, in.

We hadn't fucked yet. We'd talked about taking it slow. There were so many _feelings_ involved, getting hurt would actually be painful this time. Besides, sex wouldn't actually be 'fucking' with her. I imagine it would be something deeper, sweeter. I imagine we would make love when the time came. _If_ the time came.

Because despite her ability to take away all my inhibitions, she still left me with one worry, one that gnawed at the back of my mind even as I kissed her. I worried about how long this would last. How long until we were discovered and thrown apart yet again by our differences, those differences that made us so good in the first place.

The thought made me sad and I pulled back from the kiss, staring into her dark eyes. God, she was so beautiful. Her lips were full and pink, her eyes large and fringed with lovely, long lashes. Her face was sculpted beautifully, her cheekbones high and aristocratic, but her face still round like a cool cameo.

And yet, every day I was learning there was so much more to Ginny than her beauty. She was intensely witty. She made me laugh, more than I'd ever done before. She could cast the most horrible of curses without batting an eye when she was pissed off. And yet, she was kind as well, always keeping me in check when I ranted about my idiotic friends, reminding me that they hadn't meant to do whatever they'd done that time. Her grades were remarkable; she was top in her class. She enjoyed reading and occasionally wrote her own stories, out of boredom, she'd explained. She had so much potential, but she wanted to use it to help others.

As I stared at her face, I noticed she was crying. That was another thing I loved about her– she felt everything so deeply. I started at the thought. _Loved?_ Since when did I use that word?

I wiped her tears away and planted a sweet kiss on her forehead.

Her voice trembled as she spoke to me, "You promise you'll write?"

My thoughts flickered back to my dormitory, where my stationary sat, still needing to be packed. "I promise."

She searched my eyes for the truth and relaxed when she saw it there. I loved that about her too; I'd finally found someone who could call my bluffs.

I leaned into her, resting my head on her chest. She was sitting on the teacher's desk, something I found incredibly sexy. I stood between her legs as she drew me into her arms.

It was difficult to explain, but something just felt _right_ about doing this with her. Fooling around with other girls had always been fun while I did it, but in the end, I'd just felt empty.

We kissed for a few more stolen moments before parting ways. It had been our shortest and most bittersweet meeting yet, but I had hope that we'd eventually see one another again.

My final exam was Potions. It went by quickly, with me daydreaming more than concentrating on the exam itself. There was no need, anyway. I was guaranteed a great grade in this class.

I imagined myself kissing Ginny. I could feel the way her lips felt on mine. And then, I saw the two of us together, locked in an embrace, as time sped up around us. People passed and we grew older, but still, there we stood together. And then, I saw Ginny as she would be in six or seven years – She was even more beautiful, something I'd never imagined was possible. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, bangs hung down over her forehead. She was speaking to me, but I wasn't listening, I was just admiring her.

Someone's hand on my arm woke me from my daydream and made me jump. It was Blaise. I'd already finished my potion and had been sitting in my seat, waiting for dismissal.

I glanced around the classroom; it had already emptied. Apparently, we'd been dismissed long ago.

Blaise gave me a curious look, "What's wrong with you, mate? You looked like you'd been thinking about something awfully important."

Or someone,I thought. I gave him a grin, "Kind of. I was just wondering if I'd put two teaspoons of dragon's blood or three into the potion. Let's go, the train leaves soon."

Blaise gave me a lopsided grin, "Typical Draco. Doesn't stop worrying about exams even when the term's over."

I shouldered my bag and walked with Blaise through the hallway, pushing the first-years out of the way as usual.

By chance, I happened to pass Ginny in the hall and slipped the note I'd written to her last night in her bag:

_Red,_

_I hope you have a nice vacation. Try to avoid the antics Potter will undoubtedly want to get himself into. Why does that guy have to bring everyone in on his death wishes all the time? Remember to guard this mail with your life. In fact, after you read it, you should burn it. But I know you're far too sentimental to do that. I miss you already._

_Goldilocks_

_P.S. I expect a truly fantastic gift for Christmas._

It had been less than a day into our vacation when I received her response to what I'd written.

_My dear Honey-Head, _

_I've already bought your gift. I expect you to get me something that will make all the girls jealous. What should I get for your darling mother and father? Perhaps muggle items? Or maybe an I Love The Order t-shirt? We both know how much they would appreciate that. _

_I miss you too. Perhaps we could arrange a day-trip and meet up?_

_Red_

_P.S. As for guarding these letters with my life, I have, but I will not tell you where for fear you'll burn them._

I had laughed at her response and immediately written back.

_Red, _

_Honey-Head? Are you serious? By far the worst nick-name in your arsenal. Trust me, it's a gift that will make you go crazy. As for my mother and father, of course you may get them those. I'm sure they'll show their appreciation with a nicely-aimed Cruciatus Curse._

_You're right not to trust me with the location of the letters. You're far too sentimental._

_Would your parents grow suspicious if you snuck off?_

_With the most unfortunate of nicknames, _

_Honey-Head_

_Sunshine,_

_You're right, that was the worst nickname ever. Good news is that I found one that not only matches your beautifully bright hair, but also that sweet personality everyone knows and loves. Ouch, a Cruciatus for the girl their son's been snogging? I'm insulted._

_No, they won't notice. You forget, I come from a family of seven children. They're much too busy concentrating on the twins' antics, Charlie and Bill's dangerous jobs, Ron's idiocy, and the famous Harry Potter to pay much attention to me. We can meet in Southampton for the weekend, perhaps?_

_Yes, I'm far too sentimental and you're too cold-hearted. It makes for a lovely balance._

_ Red_

I met with her a few days later in a hotel room in Southampton. She was dressed in a beautiful, soft blue dress that hugged her body perfectly, her face lighting up as she saw me. I practically ran to her, dropping the bag I'd packed on the room's floor and grabbing her up in my arms to pull her mouth to mine. For a moment, I was once again enveloped in her sweet taste.

I idly wondered what it would be like to make love to her.

She pulled back and smiled up at me, her eyes glimmering with happiness, "I've missed you so much, Drake."

I started at the usage of a nickname I actually liked and then smiled back at her, "I missed you too, Red."

We had both lied to our parents, something that, as it turned out, wasn't new to either of us. I was supposedly at Blaise's house while Ginny was supposed to be at Luna's. Neither of our parents would bother checking. As she'd said before, her parents were far too busy and probably desperate to have one less person to worry about. While mine, well, they didn't particularly care enough to check. It's not that they'd ever neglected me, but their policy had never been to check up on me. I think my father just figured he'd let me make my own decisions; my mother was perfectly happy to follow his directive if it meant he'd yell at her less.

We lay on the bed, kissing and holding one another. It was perfect, idyllic, my favorite moment in my life. Things eventually progressed from kissing to even more. I found myself ripping off her clothing and then shedding my own. And, my god, she was even more beautiful than I'd imagined.

Her skin was a creamy ivory, smooth under my fingertips as I rolled over her and kissed her neck. She gazed up at me, her eyes beautifully innocent, her red hair spread out on the pillow behind her like a crimson halo. She smiled at me as I ran my fingers along her body, cupping her breasts in my hand. I stuck a finger into her warmth, relishing the way she tilted her head back and moaned at the sensation.

It was the most sensuous thing I'd ever experienced. I entered a second finger, and then a third, and took delight in pleasuring her in all the ways I knew how. For the first time in a very long time, I felt myself thanking Pansy for teaching me how to indulge a woman.

Suddenly, Ginny reached downwards and grabbed me. Extreme feelings of pleasure and thrill crashed inside my chest; I felt myself savoring the moment as my heartbeat increased. My mind ceased to work and I felt myself climax at the same time Ginny did, our moans echoing throughout the small room we'd paid for with my allowance.

I laid my head next to hers on the pillow, my chest heaving at the exertion and feelings of pleasure. She grinned at me; it was the happiest expression I'd ever seen on her face.

And then, she did something I'd really not expected. She began touching me again until my little soldier stood at attention. I watched with a sort of shocked expression as she crawled toward me and straddled my legs, positioning her entrance over me.

I grabbed her hips in warning and gave her a questioning look, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes." Her voice came out in a sexy whisper.

"But what about waiting?"

She gave me an impatient look, "I want you and want me. I can see it in your eyes. And I think we both know that you and I aren't guaranteed to have forever. We only have today, right now. We've only been promised this moment."

And it was in that moment that I realized something. I blurted it out before I could overthink it and convince myself it wasn't true, "I love you, Ginny."

She smiled, "You realized that just now, didn't you? I love you too, Draco. I have for a while."

I nodded and flipped her onto her back, encircling her in my arms as I entered her and began to make love to her.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

I woke up the next morning to two of the most wonderful feelings in the world– the sun shining on my face and Ginny's body pressed against mine. I smiled to myself and pulled her closer to me, the peaceful look on her face as she slept making my heart swell with love.

Perhaps feeling my eyes on her, her eyelids fluttered open and she looked at me with an expression so full of love and adoration, I felt my breath catch. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers, savoring the taste of her sweet breath.

A thought came to mind and I gave her a mischievous smile and jumped out of bed, motioning for her to stay as I ran over to the closet where I'd stashed it. I grabbed the long, thin box and turned to where she was sitting on the bed, the covers pulled around her.

I gave her a grin and tossed her the box, "Merry Christmas."

It wasn't Christmas yet, of course, but this was the only time we'd get together during the break.

She gave me a sweet, excited look and began tearing at the wrapping. She opened the box and gasped, pulling out the gift, her eyes beginning to well with tears, "Oh my god, Draco, a Firebolt? You shouldn't have!"

The tears were beginning to fall down her face, which I'd learned long ago was just Ginny. She felt everything much more passionately than the rest of humanity.

I smiled at her and pulled her back into my arms, leaning against the headboard of the bed as she laid her head on my chest, running her hands along the smoothed wooden handle of the broom. I kissed the top of her head again, "I wanted to get you something I knew you could use. This is probably going to come back to bite me in the ass, however. As if the Slytherin team needs you on a faster broom."

She gasped suddenly and turned to me, a look of alarm on her face, "But what will I say if people ask where I got it? They know my parents can't afford it."

I pushed her hair back and kissed her neck; I'd already figured out that part, "We'll bewitch it to look like your old broom."

She sighed and leaned against my chest, running her hands along my bare shoulders. And then she jumped up and dug through her bag, bringing out a small package, "It isn't as great as your gift, but I thought you'd like it."

The truth was, she'd already given me the best gift in the world– she'd given me her. Last night had been the best night of my life, by far. But when I carefully opened the package, my breath caught. The most incredibly lovely book lay inside the box. I knew what this was. It was something I'd been searching for my entire life.

One of the most rare books of potion-brewing ever created. A nineteenth-century volume, bound in leather and violet velvet, written in one of the most historically important eras of potions in our history. I ran my hands along the gilded lettering and pages, "It's beautiful. How did you find it?"

"It belonged to my family. Because it isn't well-preserved, it's worth near to nothing to most people, but I knew how much it would be worth to you." She gave me a wink and added haughtily, "Don't worry, I already read it."

If I'd known the difficulties that were to come, the intricate web of politics and policies that would soon envelope the both of us, would I have still slept with her? A part of me would ask that question for the rest of my life; despite the fact that I don't believe humans could tell the future, that it's an ability far beyond our capabilities, that we don't even have the _right_ to know what's coming for us, I think that things might have ended differently between us. Whether it would have been for better or worse, I can't really say.

There's a part of me, though I don't know how large or dominant that part may be, that wants to say no, that wants to think I was fully in control of my actions and choices, that I always am around her. But another part of me argues that I was in too deep even at that point and I can't help but listen to it.

It's because of this internal argument that, directly after returning from my weekend liaison with Ginny, I found myself doing thorough research on everyone in my life. I'd found files and documents and newspaper clippings. I found dirt on everyone and anyone involved with Slytherin or the Dark Lord. There was no way I'd let them hurt her.

For many of them it was easy. I knew all my father and mother's secrets, not because they'd told me, but because I'd been spying on them for years. Many of my friends had stupidly been very open with me about their deepest secrets and what could possibly tear their families apart. I didn't even require evidence for most of them– simply threatening to tell someone was enough. But then there were others, my Aunt Bellatrix, Yaxley, the Dark Lord himself, where the evidence was needed.

Simple rumors couldn't destroy these people. And that was when I found myself holing up for days in my room, pouring over countless documents, searching desperately for the information and proof that would keep Ginny and I alive and well.

It wasn't easy, to say the least, and many of my enemies had seemingly spotless records, the marks having been hidden so well it was unbelievable. I couldn't find dirt on a select few.

Because we'd taken our relationship to a new and unexpected level, we'd had to change our meeting location. Ginny had insisted that sex on a teacher's desk wouldn't be too uncomfortable. Secretly, I'd agreed. The thought of banging her on McGonagall's desk was incredibly sexy and tempting, but I wouldn't allow that. It was too risky and frankly she deserved more.

This girl deserved a five star hotel with champagne and room service and all the delicacies in the world. She deserved everything. Unfortunately, I was just a young man. I didn't have very much, except my parents' money.

Some would argue I also had a stunning intellect, sharp wit, and aristocratic good looks, but that was beside the point.

After some thorough research, we'd decided upon the Room of Requirement. It was little known and out of the way; no one used it during the night. Ginny did happen to mention that meetings took place there during the day, though, so we had to stay extra-vigilant. Knowing she was part of some sort of secret organization, I decided not to ask for the specifics on these meetings.

I was, after all, at a conflict of interest, as the silver _I_ of the Inquisitorial Squad on my lapel so often reminded me.

I stood outside Umbridge's office, the watch on my wrist showing me that Blaise was once again late for duty. My foot tapped anxiously on the stone floor.

Pansy noticed it and spoke up, her voice snide, "What's wrong, Draco? Are you late for an appointment?"

I contained a shiver; she didn't understand how close to the truth she was. Shooting her a glare, I responded, "Blaise is late again and _some_ of us would like to get a few hours' rest before we have to go to class tomorrow."

Millicent nodded with me, "I can't believe how little that bitch expects us to sleep."

"Worried about your beauty sleep, Millie? Don't worry, you don't need it, sweetheart." Blaise was turning the corner, his hands in his pockets as he walked at a leisurely pace. Millicent, who was so unfortunate looking I couldn't believe Blaise had said that with a straight face, glared at Blaise, knowing he was teasing her.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Come on." I began walking, instructing everyone which corridors to take, "Crabbe, Goyle, you two will be on the second floor." I took the third floor, which was where the Room of Requirement was located.

We'd been at Hogwarts for over a month now. Our affair was turning into a routine.

When I reached the third floor corridor, the door appeared in the side of the wall, telling me that Ginny was already inside. I opened the door and walked inside to see the bedroom she'd created this time. This time, it was simple with whitewashed walls and an unembellished bedframe with a flowery quilt. She stood in the middle of the room with a lavender robe draped around her shoulders.

At the sound of my footsteps, she turned to look at me and smiled, her red hair twisting over her shoulder. I took a few swift steps toward her and folded her gently in my arms, moving her hair back from her shoulder so I could plant kisses on the smooth skin there.

She planted a kiss on my lips and led me to the bed, pulling at my clothes as we moved. She lay down on the light quilt and I crawled over her, holding both of her hands down on the bedspread while I planted kisses in the most sensitive of areas on her body.

Her hands flitted across my body as I slowly entered her, thrusting my hips to a steadily faster rhythm. Nails scraped at my skin, kisses were planted as we made love, her red hair spread across the white quilt. Her eyes widened as she gasped and then they rolled back into her head with pleasure. I smirked at her and moved faster until she was screaming, her fingers clutching at my arms.

When we'd both finished, we lay for a few moments in a sweaty, happy heap. I stared at her beautiful face, at the way her dark eyes glowed, her pink lips puffy from kisses, her red hair plastered with perspiration. She smiled at me again and I pulled her closer, nestling my head against hers.

But these were stolen moments and I knew that. Every moment we spent together was exponentially more dangerous than the last.

With a sigh, I stood and began gathering my clothing, giving her a regretful look, "I'm sorry, I've got to go. I love you, Red."

She gave me a sorrowful look from where she sat on the bed, "I love you too."

I hoped she knew I was telling the truth. What I wouldn't give to stay there, lying next to her. But I couldn't. They'd eventually come looking for me and to be found like this would mean disaster. It could mean being expelled or manipulated or killed, depending on who found us and what they could piece together. Could they figure out how the Order found Ginny's brother? Or that I'd known where Dumbledore's Army was meeting?

That reminded me of a thought I'd had in the hallway as Millicent had called Umbridge a bitch, "I know you're part of Dumbledore's Army. I also figured out that you guys are meeting here during the day and that sometimes, when you cancel on me, you plan ways to fuck with Umbridge at night. I know that whatever I say won't convince you to stay out of trouble. And I know I can't tell you what to do. So, tell me when and where you plan these things and I can arrange for the Inquisitorial Squad to simply overlook wherever in the castle you're supposed to be."

She gave me a mega-watt smile, "You'd really do that? I thought you liked Umbridge."

I snorted, "Hardly. When do you think the last time I had a full night's sleep was? She's inhumane. But you messing with her only makes her worse. She's going to come down hard on your team if she catches them. If you're going to fuck with her, you might as well let me ensure you don't get caught."

I left soon after that, the smell of her–spicy like her feisty attitude, yet sweet at the same time– floating around me. I stepped into the corridor and froze, innately feeling that something had changed. I glanced around and saw, in one dark corner, a shadow move.

I swore as the figure stepped out of the shadows and I saw who it was.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"I couldn't believe it when Blaise told me, but here you are." Pansy's voice floated through the hallway, making my skin crawl. I couldn't believe this was happening.

I kept my face straight, on the off-chance I could bluff my way out of this. "I don't know what you're talking about, Pansy. I was checking the room for members of Dumbledore's Army."

Pansy scoffed, "Oh shut up, Draco. I know you're fucking the Weasley girl. Honestly, I thought your standards were higher than that."

I smirked; my own words come back to bite me in the ass, "They weren't until I met her– as evidenced by our romantic history."

Pansy's ugly–really, how could I ever have thought she was attractive?– face contorted as she tried to make sense of my words. I watched with amusement as she figured it out and an expression of rage crossed her smashed face. She gave an indignant sound; it reminded me of a pygmy puff being stepped on.

Giving her a knowing look, I leaned against the wall behind me and folded my arms, sighing "What do you want, Pansy?" She had convinced Blaise to hold off on telling all of our friends, which meant she wanted something.

"I wanted to see the look on your face before I ruin your life." She replied, her grin malicious.

"That isn't what you want and we both know it. If you wanted to see my face when you ruined my life, you would have told the rest while at breakfast. So what is it? Money? You want me to write your potions essays for you? Come on, out with it. We don't have all night." I was getting impatient; I knew Ginny would eventually have to leave the room and I certainly didn't need her worrying about whether she'd made the right choice with me.

"I want you to tell them you lied."

"Who? I tell a lot of lies, Pansy. You'll have to jog my memory." I knew exactly what she meant, but I also knew how much it would drive her insane if I pretended that ruining her social standing had just been another daily activity for me. She'd believe it too; I ruined at least several reputations every day before lunchtime. My world was a giant chess game, after all.

I was right. Her eyes narrowed and she hissed, "Our friends. I want you to tell them you lied about Blaise and me."

"Mhm. And why would I do that?"

Her mouth literally fell open and I nearly laughed. I'd never seen that happen in real life; it looked ridiculous. Her jaw snapped shut again, "Weren't you listening? I'll tell _everyone_ about your affair with Ginny Weasley if you don't."

I then gave a crude laugh and pushed myself off the wall, walking to her until I was toe-to-toe with the evil bitch who was trying to ruin my life for the second time this year –third time if you counted us dating in the first place. I was on the offensive now and I would finish this game with her tonight. I towered over her menacingly, "I knew you and Blaise would do this. So I did some research on your families. Did you know your dad stole money from the Ministry of Magic? I bet you did." I saw in her eyes that she'd been aware and flashed her a grin at the sight of the fear in her eyes. "And I found the evidence to prove it. Your dad wasn't too smart when he stole those millions; he left quite the paper trail. You wouldn't want dear old daddy to end up in Azkaban, would you?"

Her eyes were enormous as she stared at me in fear, the gears in her head still trying to find a way into blackmailing me into doing what she wanted. But there wasn't. I'd out-maneuvered her.

Checkmate, bitch.

I leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Now, go tell Blaise that your little plan won't work. I found dirt on him too. And if either of you even think about telling anyone else about any of this, I'll send your dad to jail without blinking an eye."

"You're a real ass, you know that, Draco?" She replied before she began to storm down the hallway.

Smirking, I called after her, "Don't forget– I own you now."

Light footsteps alerted me to Ginny's presence as she came out of the Room of Requirement. She lifted a snarky eyebrow, "You own her? What does that mean?"

I gave her a warm smile and kissed the top of her head, "Nothing, babe, just taking care of business."

For a few weeks, everything was going splendidly. Well, as splendidly as they ever did. Which, realistically, wasn't very splendid at all. Every day, I turned a blind eye to Ginny's elicit activities with whatever stupid organization she'd involved herself in. I couldn't say I agreed with her being involved with Potter's plans– in fact, I was wholeheartedly against it. Potter usually couldn't plan his way out of a paper bag and here they had him running fucking covert operations. It was a wonder the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad hadn't caught them yet. I'd found myself cleaning up after them on a few occasions, in fact. Especially when they used magic. I mean, gods, who uses magic to vandalize a school and then doesn't cast a simple charm to prevent the user's wand from being detected? I'd learned how to do that by the time I was thirteen.

But it wasn't just that Harry Potter was a complete and total Neanderthal, I was coming to realize. It was that I was protective of Red. I wanted her far away from any dangerous plots, but, of course, being _my_ Red, she was almost always the center of any mischief that I myself hadn't caused. I'd fallen in love with a redhead with a devilish grin and now I was paying the price. I swear, I might turn gray before my 20th birthday if I stay with this woman.

We all have our burdens to bear.

But, unfortunately, Ginny wasn't the only source of stress. I was now in the full throes of a game of mental acuity with Pansy and Blaise. Blaise, of course, was trying to figure out what blackmail I had on his family while Pansy was constantly sifting through my things to find the evidence I had against her father. As if I'd be stupid enough to hide it in my school trunk! And, god, the bitch wouldn't even rearrange my things after she rummaged through them. Every single day, I came home to a ransacked room. Honestly, courtesy doesn't exist any more.

And I was in the middle of wondering whether Pansy and Blaise understood just how deadly the game we were playing could become. After all, they'd threatened to tell everyone, but _who was everyone?_ Was it my father? Snape? Slytherin? The entire school? The Dark Lord? The Order? Or, I shudder to think, possibly all of those combined? And if so, did they know that that could quite possibly get me killed? And, finally, my last question– _did they even care?_

I knew I hated them. I loathed Pansy with every fiber of my being after our confrontation in the hallway a few days prior. And while I missed the company and jokes of my best friend, Blaise, telling Pansy information was not something I could overlook. They both had their strengths– strengths that I'd seen in them all those years ago as we sat on the couch during our first year. Blaise was irresistibly charming and convincing. The ultimate confidence man. Pansy was cunning and sly. Her malicious grin was just one-tenth a representation of the devious, scheming mind that I knew lay behind her brown bangs. Neither of them could stay one step ahead of everyone else, however. That had always been my expertise. So, it was possible that they didn't know. And it was possible that they did.

In some ways, in most ways, it didn't really matter. I had the blackmail that I'd found and the fact that I'd hidden the evidence to protect Ginny and I, at least for the time being.

But mainly I was at rest for once, despite the intricate scheming that was going on behind closed doors and the tight, fake smiles Blaise, Pansy, and I threw at one another during meal times. I hadn't had any close calls with Potter recently, other than absolutely throttling Gryffindor in a quidditch match, which Ginny was sour about for days. I also had a slight reprieve from Blaise and Pansy, although it was very slight. For the first time all semester, it felt as if I could–when I wasn't cleaning up Potter's blasted messes; really, the shit I do for fucking love– finally relax and simply concentrate on Ginny.

Needless to say, it was wonderful. I saw her nearly every night after I assigned the Inquisitorial Squad their assignments. Ginny and I now had an arrangement where she told me where her organization had been or planned to be that night and I assigned absolutely no one to inspect that area. It's a surprise, really, that Potter's group never caught on, but I suppose they're all as dense and presumptuous as he is.

And while the Inquisitorial Squad headed off to work each night, I snuck off to play.

But, as they say, all good things come to an end.

I was on my way to meet with Ginny when I heard footsteps behind me. A tall figure swaggered toward me through the shadows and immediately, all my senses were on alert. I knew that lazy, overconfident, proud gait. I happened to have one just like it, albeit much more refined given my social standing. Granted, we'd been at odds recently, if you want to use the understatement of the century to describe the current situation. But I don't think I could ever forget that walk. The way my best friend walked.

My ex-best friend, I suppose.

"Thought I'd find you here." Blaise remarked with a smirk that told me he knew exactly what I was doing.

I raised an eyebrow in curiosity; he knew what that meant.

"No time for fucking, I'm afraid. Umbridge wants everyone in her office immediately. Although if she's lonely, I could skip the meeting and give her a go." He remarked lasciviously. In the dim lighting, I thought I saw him lick his lips.

I felt rage course through my body at his comments and I cocked my arm back, my fist shooting forward to connect with his nose. Blood spurted and stained the white, crisp collar of his linen shirt and his head flew backward, the force knocking him onto his back where he lay sprawled on the ground, one hand propping him up as another covered his nose.

"What the fuck, Draco?" Blaise's voice was muffled and distorted by the blod pouring from his nostrils.

I walked carefully toward him, my shoes echoing on the flagstone floors. I pressed my foot against his throat. "Didn't Pansy pass the message on? I own you now. So learn to have some goddamn respect or I'll release the evidence that your mommy killed all of your stepfathers. I don't think she'd look good in those Azkaban uniforms, do you?"

Blaise's eyes opened widely before the calculating look returned to his face, "That's nothing. Everyone knows she did it."

"Yes, but no one's had proof until now. I wonder how badly the Ministry wants to prosecute her for murdering seven wizards."

"You know Drake, you used to be a nice guy. What the fuck happened?" Blaise snarled beneath my foot.

I smirked at him and dropped my foot to the ground, "You did." I began to walk away toward the Room of Requirement. I had to warn Ginny about what was going on.

I was beginning to get uneasy. When I'd arrived at the Room of Requirement, Ginny hadn't been there. I practically sprinted to Umbridge's office and flung myself into the room to see Marietta Edgecombe sitting on a stool, surrounded by the Inquisitorial Squad. Her face was covered with hideous boils.

"What's going on here?" I demanded, looking from Blaise's bloodied face to Marietta's disfigured one to the enormous and pink Umbridge. On the walls, kittens painted on china plates meowed and reminded me, strangely, of the broken plate that had gotten me sent to Hogwarts.

Umbridge looked at me and giggled, "Marietta here was just telling us where Dumbledore's Army is meeting tonight."

Oh no. Oh shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This couldn't be happening.

My mind began to spin and I nearly went into another rage. I hadn't seen Ginny tonight. She was most likely with Dumbledore's Army. There was nothing I could do. If I stopped Umbridge, she'd know I wasn't really on her side. And oh my god, the implications that would have.

My eyes involuntarily flickered to where Pansy was hovering over Blaise, fixing his nose with her wand. Her spellwork wasn't the best and I maliciously hoped his nose would be crooked. Simultaneously, they looked up and made eye contact with me. What I read there was vengeance.

I began to panic. The only thing to do was to try to figure out a way to free Ginny when we found that stupid fucking organization.

Umbridge led us out of the room and upstairs to the third corridor. My heart began to slow. I knew this corridor. This was the Room of Requirement. They couldn't be here; I'd just been here.

Somehow, Umbridge's information must have been wrong, I thought hopefully.

But it wasn't.

As soon as we knocked down the door, I saw the faces of fifty-something children hiding in the room. I turned around just in time to see the satisfied grin on Umbridge's face and wondered what sort of torture these people would endure because of their crimes.

There was a moment, a split-second, when the two groups measured one another up silently, frozen like deer in headlights. And then, everything devolved into chaos. Somehow, I ended up catching Potter, my wand tip pressed against his throat as my eyes scanned the room for the red hair I knew and loved so much.

I didn't see her and as the room cleared, my hopes lifted again.

Until I heard Blaise hiss from behind me, "Looking for _this_, Draco?"

I spun around, Potter still in my grasp, to see Blaise holding down a struggling Ginny, his hand wrapped brutally in her hair as he savagely pulled at her, his wand pressing so hard into her soft throat that I feared the skin there would break. Ginny gave a soft whimpering sound as Blaise's hand at her hair tightened and gave another cruel yank.

The sound of her pain broke me from the stupor I'd been put in at the sight of the brutality. And suddenly, I wanted to kill him. _No body _touched her like that. Her hair was meant to be lovingly brushed behind her ear, not yanked roughly. Her neck was meant to be kissed, not have a wand pressed threateningly into it.

But I knew that if I killed him, there would be a lot of questions. Questions that I didn't have suitable answers to.

And so, I followed him back to Umbridge's office, all the while wondering how the fuck we were going to get out of this.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

If only I had known that what we'd just done would forever fuck up my relationship with Ginny, would I have been able to think my way out of it? I do well under pressure, but I'm not sure there was a way out of that scenario. Well, not a way without ending both of our lives. This was the culmination of all the months' worth of plotting and sneaking around and double crossing.

I should have seen it coming. How could I not have seen it coming?

Fuck Divination.

We each stood in Umbridge's office with our prisoners. I absently felt Potter struggle against my grip, but in all honesty, all my attention was on Ginny. I watched as she fought against Blaise, hissing and kicking with all her might as he continued to tug viciously on her hair. I wanted to tell her to stop fighting it, that he would only hurt her more. But I knew I couldn't.

Besides, she wouldn't have listened any way.

Umbridge was in the middle of what appeared to be a mental breakdown. I'd suspected for several weeks that under her careful façade of cheery politeness was a severely demented woman who barely clung to sanity and was quickly falling into the throes of all-out psychoticism. Tonight, I think she was going to prove me correct.

Umbridge strode back and forth around the room in her pink dress; simultaneously purring at the kittens on the walls and screaming at the students we had caught. Honestly, I think the woman was having a psychotic episode. She began tearing at her hair and at one point summoned Snape for the veritaserum, but he informed her that she'd already used it all.

Ah, Snape. My favorite teacher come to be my favorite hero. I knew for a fact that we still had plenty of veritaserum in the storage cupboards. I'd seen it a few nights ago while practicing my potions making. Snape had long ago given me a free pass to the entire storage. I think he viewed me as a sort of apprentice.

I didn't bother questioning why he was lying; he probably thought it immoral, using veritaserum on a student. Even people like Snape have boundaries.

It didn't matter _why_ he lied; I just knew it could possibly save Ginny.

My god, if that woman didn't practically jump up and down in anger at that news. Snape, bless him, simply sat there, his clinical eyes examining the tiny, deranged woman in front of him. Beside him, she resembled a rabid, pink puppy, running mad through the room and tearing the place apart. It was a wonder he didn't scold her and tell her to 'sit and stay'.

The image almost made me lose my grip on Potter.

And then, suddenly, Granger began yammering about a secret weapon and how she and Harry should show it to her. I immediately recognized this for what it was– a trap. And a chance to help Ginny escape. Poor Umbridge, judging by the hungry look in her eyes, clearly didn't understand the fate that was about to befall her.

And really, who the fuck cared at this point? The entire school, even her own Inquisitorial Squad, was ready to get rid of this sanctimonious, fascist bitch.

So, the entire Inquisitorial Squad said nothing as we knowingly watched her walk into her own trap–possibly her death. We were smart enough–well maybe not all of us, after all Crabbe and Goyle _were_ on the Squad– to know a trap when we saw one. But as she walked out of the room with Granger and Potter in tow, we kept our lips sealed. Why? Because fuck her, that's why. After my ordeal with Umbridge, I understood exactly why one person shouldn't have too much power. She was like a mini Lord Voldemort–power hungry and willing to do anything to get more.

Sometimes, the only way to overthrow a tyrant is through violence and backstabbing. This is something I would eventually come to realize in much more dangerous situations.

As soon as they left the room, I began thinking my way out of the situation. Now that Umbridge was gone, all I had to do was convince the others to simply let the other students go. We already knew Umbridge probably wasn't coming back, after all.

But there was always that chance that she would.

And even if she didn't, Blaise and Pansy wanted to make me suffer. With Ginny quite literally in their clutches, that wouldn't be too difficult.

I made eye contact with Ginny as she doubled her attempts to fend off Blaise. Honestly, at this point, as she was kicking and biting him, it looked a bit like she was trying to kill him. Things would be a lot easier if she did.

As soon as we made eye-contact, I tried to convey to her exactly what I wanted her to do. I don't think she understood, but she certainly understood what I meant when I began mouthing a countdown. In her eyes, I saw something that almost made me lose my grip on reality altogether.

When I mouthed the word 'one', she began firing spells at the Inquisitorial Squad as I just happened to let Potter out of my grasp. As she fended off nearly the entire Squad by herself, I put up a half-hearted fight against Potter while occasionally "_accidentall_y" knocking out a few of the Squad myself.

I'm just so clumsy sometimes.

The fight ended with me being stunned by one of our adversaries. The last thing I saw as they left the room was Ginny's eyes, pleading with me to forgive her.

As if I could ever be angry with her about this; after all, this is what I wanted. I needed her to escape because in those moments when I'd seen her struggling with Blaise with all her might, I'd finally understood what was going on. I understood why she hadn't sent a note saying she couldn't meet; I understood why she hadn't met with me; I understood why she'd been struggling so much.

Something was wrong. Something she couldn't tell me about. Either for fear to get me involved or because she simply didn't have the time, I didn't know. What I did know was that when I'd caught her eyes as she was struggling with Blaise, I'd seen something I'd never thought I would see.

Ginny Weasley was terrified out of her goddamned mind.

_My Ginny_ was scared. That had never happened. I'd seen all sides of Ginny; I'd seen her laugh, cry, and love. I'd seen her when she was furious and when she was ecstatic. I'd seen incredible passion in her eyes and I'd held her while she cried and when we made love. Everything about her–every fiber of her being – was passionate; she was on fire all the time, more so than anyone else I'd ever known. She felt love and happiness and sorrow so much more deeply than the rest of humanity.

But through all those emotions, through all the joy and the heartbreak, I'd never seen fear like that in the endless depths of her eyes.

And honestly, as I contemplated this, my eyes fixed on the door she'd left through, I felt a shock of fear course through my own heart. Something was seriously wrong.

And I thought I knew where to start. I'd long ago learned that the only thing Ginny really, truly loved was her family. I'd learned this the day she asked me to find her brother's whereabouts. She was willing to risk everything–her life and mine– to find out if her brother was alive and well. So why shouldn't she do it again? But this time, she hadn't asked for my help. Was it because there wasn't enough time? I felt a nagging in the pit of my stomach that told me something terrible was at play. I tried to account for all of her family members.

I knew for a fact that Fred, George, and Ron were all okay. I'd seen them during our struggle with Dumbledore's Army. That left Charlie, Bill, and her parents. Her mother was most likely fine; I'd gathered from my conversations with Ginny that her mother rarely left the house. Charlie was still recuperating in her family's home from his exploits before Christmas break. It was highly unlikely that her house had been attacked; I knew it probably had many wards around it.

So that left her brother Bill and her father whose whereabouts I couldn't account for. Bill worked for Gringotts and her father for the Ministry.

I cursed in my head, both Gringotts and the Ministry would be likely targets for Voldemort if he tried to take over.

But he wasn't powerful enough, was he? My father certainly seemed to think so. But Lucius had always had far too much confidence in his lord's abilities, in my opinion. After all, one man can't sustain all that power without going completely mad, as evidenced by Umbridge.

Knowing that I'd figured out just about what was going on, I became irritated at the fact that I still couldn't move. Whoever had stupefied me had done a hell of a job, unfortunately.

It was what I estimated to be another hour before I regained full control of my body. Part of me wanted to kill whoever had stupefied me; another part of me wanted to shake their hand. It truly was a great spell.

But it might have caused Ginny's death.

And for all my surmising and guesswork, I still didn't know where she was. I couldn't go after her if I didn't know where she'd gone. I couldn't help her.

All I could do was sit in the common room, my fists clenched in anticipation, and wait.

Several people tried to talk to me, Pansy included, but they backed off immediately once it became clear that I was in a murderous mood. I could quite literally have killed the entire Inquisitorial Squad. I held many of them responsible for what was happening tonight. If the Inquisitorial Squad hadn't attacked so suddenly, I could have found her in time. If I'd been able to meet with Ginny, I could have helped.

I could have helped.

I could have helped.

I could have.

But all I could do now was wait.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Eventually, I grew restless and found myself wandering the halls, questions circling in my mind. Where was Ginny? How could I get in touch with her? What was she doing? Was she hurt?

Was she even still alive?

It hurt me to ask the last question; I tried so hard to banish it from my mind, but it kept returning. The more I ignored it, the more I needed to ask myself it.

Was she alive?

Oh god, I hoped so. If she died, I didn't know what I would do. Kill anyone who had ever caused her harm. But no, even doing that would not alleviate the pain I would feel–the pain I _felt_ at the mere idea of her death. I would burn the world down.

My fear felt like it could send the entire world up in smoke right now.

Was she still alive?

I quickly tried to analyze the situation. I knew she had her brothers, Granger, Potter, Looney Lovegood, and Longbottom with her. And they were most likely fighting Death Eaters.

Red was incredible, but unless the Order had shown up, her possibilities of survival were slim.

And cue the all-out panic mode.

I was about to go crazy; where could she be? Oh my god, please don't let her be dead. She couldn't be dead, could she? Wouldn't I have known?

Surely I'd have felt it in my heart.

A life like hers, so vivacious and spirited, teeming with _life_ and happiness and emotions, couldn't simply be extinguished from the world. She would have left some visible change when exiting it; the colors of the trees would have dimmed or the air would have been chillier or laughter would have sounded more hollow.

Or my heart would have broken.

My heart wasn't breaking, was it? I didn't know. I'd never before felt what I felt for Ginny. I didn't know what it would feel like to lose that.

Impossibly painful; it would be agonizing, I imagined.

Did you really ever know what it felt like to have your heart break? Or did the body protect the mind from feeling that sort of extreme pain? I don't think I could sustain that agony without going absolutely mental.

I couldn't live without her without going mental.

I was going mental.

Or was I? Do crazy people know they're crazy? If so, what did that make me?

Sometime around three in the morning, I collapsed in one of the corridors. My body had finally succumbed to the bliss of sleep.

I awoke the next morning to the toe of a shoe nudging my face. I pushed the shoe away from me and rolled over, desperately wanting to return to the dream I'd been having. I rolled over and my face suddenly felt like I'd been shoved into a bathtub of ice.

I yelped and jumped up.

I'd fallen asleep on the marble flooring of one of the hallways and ended up rolling onto it; the icy feeling was the tiles after chilling over night.

Beside me, an amused look on his face, stood Blaise.

"You didn't come home last night, mate." He said, his dark eyes twinkling.

Mate? Since when were we friends? We weren't. He'd tried to ruin everything. He'd threatened Ginny. At that thought, my mind drifted off and I began to plan out exactly how I would torture him. I needed someone to take my anger and frustration out on.

Blaise saw the unhinged rage in my eyes and took a few steps backward, throwing his arms up in the international sign of 'I-really-didn't-mean-to-piss-you-off-please-don't-take-out-your-homicidal-rage-on-me'.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there mate. I wanted to apologize. Last night, after you went completely mad, I realized exactly how much you care for this girl."

Uh huh. As if I couldn't see through that one. "And by that, you mean that I made an equal fool of myself last night as I did of you when I ousted you and Pansy. And you may or may not have been the one responsible for me being stunned so brutally last night."

Blaise just gave me a cheeky look, "I can neither confirm nor deny that last statement."

I just gave him a hard look and waited for him to cave; if he wanted to be friends again, he would give me the whole truth and we both knew that was how it had to be.

Blaise exhaled suddenly and ran his hands through his hair. When he turned back to me, the look in his eyes was somber. "Look, I'm really sorry about everything. I never wanted to do it– it was Pansy's idea. But I saw how much you were hurting last night and I realized that I'd probably caused you to hurt that way before. It made me realized that I'd been an asshole; I knew that if I'd been in that much pain, you would have helped me. I realized that you really needed me in that moment." I gave him a defiant look; Draco Malfoy needed no one. At my look he grinned, "You needed me, whether you knew it or not."

I considered this. I knew I couldn't fully trust Blaise, but I also knew he was right– I needed him right now. "Apology accepted."

"Great. Besides, man, Pansy's crazy."

I laughed, "Interesting that this fight was all about a girl neither of us really liked."

"C'est la vie, I suppose." Blaise shrugged. I'd missed his easy-going attitude. He wasn't nearly as much fun when he was plotting against me.

"Pansy's still on the warpath though, right?" I asked knowing things with her wouldn't be solved as easily.

Blaise nodded. Well, I didn't need Pansy any way. For most of my time at Hogwarts, she'd been a thorn in my side. I was kind of glad to be rid of her.

But I was still on my guard with Blaise; I sure as hell wasn't getting rid of that evidence.

"She's going to be pissed when she finds out that you're back on my side." I remarked, internally wincing a bit for Blaise; the wrath that would befall him would be horrible and I knew that from personal experience.

"You don't know if they've come back yet, do you?" I asked Blaise, the hope in my voice clearly giving away my feelings.

"Damn, you really love this chick. How did I miss this?"

"You were too busy trying to ruin my life." I responded quickly, "Blaise. Pay attention. Have they come back?"

"Potter, Lovegood, Granger, and Long-ass have returned, but none of the redheads." Blaise replied, citing his favorite nickname for Longbottom. Personally, I preferred Schlongbottom; but to each his own, I suppose.

"What do you think that means?" I asked him, my heart in my throat.

Blaise shrugged; I should have known. As pretty and charming as Blaise was, he wasn't the best at making educated guesses.

I set to work. Most likely the situation had involved a family member or friend. Her entire family's absence from the school meant one of three things:

They were all brutally massacred. I would believe this about Ron, but not Ginny; especially since Potter had managed to live.

One of them had been injured. Most likely, this would be Ron, again, due to the fact that he was clumsy.

I was right about one of their family members being in trouble and they'd returned to their home for a little while.

I really liked my chances with B and C.

That is, until I was summoned to the Headmaster's office.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When I heard my name being called across the castle to head straight to the Headmaster's office immediately, my stomach dropped. What could it possibly be now?

I saw in Blaise's widened dark eyes that he was also wondering what was wrong. And then, I saw the fear in his eyes too. Just like Ginny, the idea of Blaise being afraid terrified the living shit out of me. Blaise and Ginny were both fearless. Ginny in a courageous, adorable way; Blaise in a sociopathic way. Blaise had always come across as lighthearted; everything was one big hilarious joke to him. I'd never seen him be afraid; but it was clear that, in that moment, he thought something horrible was about to befall me.

I think that on some deep level, we both knew that this was going to one of those defining moments; it was going to be another, much larger, certain moment. Somehow, we both innately knew that whatever waited for me in the Headmasters office would change my life forever.

I gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm sure it's something small. I did really well on the last Potions test; maybe they want to congratulate me."

Even to my own ears, that sounded like a pathetic excuse; I was trying so hard to convince myself that this was true.

We both knew it wasn't, but Blaise, bless him, smiled and nodded before walking away, his dark eyes still troubled.

My footsteps echoed ominously as I walked slowly down the hall; every step I took felt like a death march. My mind screamed at me to slow down, to turn around, that I was walking straight into death's door, but I knew I couldn't just ignore orders. What would I do, hide out in the castle forever?

I considered this; it wasn't a bad idea. I could simply disappear into the hidden passages and secret walls that this castle held. No one would ever find me. It would be so easy…

_No one would ever find me_.

Ginny wouldn't find me.

I'd never see Ginny again.

With that final thought, I set my jaw, straightened my shoulders, and reminded myself to walk like a Malfoy. Malfoy's didn't cower in terror. _Men_ didn't cower in fear.

I was greeted outside the office by a gargoyle who'd apparently already been informed of my arrival. Good, because I wasn't going to sit around and guess passwords. Fuck that.

My footsteps echoed as I took the steps upward the spiraling staircase. My feet were heavy with dread, but there was no turning back. I would not allow myself to run away.

I gave the heavy wood door an unnecessary knock, knowing that the person or people on the other side were fully expecting my arrival. As predicted, the door swung open almost immediately. On the other side, behind his desk, stood Dumbledore, gazing at me over his half-moon glasses. The look in his eyes almost stopped me in my tracks.

Instead, I took another deep breath and trudged forward, shaking the wizened wizard's hand and seating myself in one of the tall chairs facing the desk. "Tea, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore offered, his hand hesitating over the tea pot set on his desk.

I shook my head.

Dumbledore smiled a bit, "I've never cared much for the stuff myself."

In all honesty, it reminded me of Umbridge.

_Umbridge. _She'd replaced Dumbledore sometime at the start of the year. But here he was, which meant…

"Excuse me, Headmaster, but where's Professor Umbridge?" I hastily interrupted whatever comment he'd been making about bergamot with a question I found much more pertinent.

Dumbledore didn't even seem phased. "She has been removed from Hogwarts school." His voice was even when he spoke, but I thought I could see a bit of triumph in his crystal eyes.

I smirked, "Good."

This caught Dumbledore's attention and the older man smiled kindly at me, "I was under the impression you were a fan of Umbridge's, Draco. You were, after all, on the Inquisitorial Squad."

I simply shrugged, "Sometimes it doesn't matter which team you've been chosen for. A tyrant is still a tyrant."

The old wizard's grey eyebrows lifted in surprise, as if he was caught off guard at what I'd said, "Wise words, Draco."

Wise words, indeed. It wouldn't be much later until I discovered exactly how wise they were. And how much they would come to apply to my life.

A silence descended between us and I cleared my throat, "I expect you didn't call me up here just so we could chat, Professor."

Again, I saw that emotion in his eyes and he straightened in his chair, "Ah, yes. Draco, I'm sorry to have to tell you this but last night your father was arrested after an incident at the ministry. He will be tried and sent to Azkaban. Your professors and I have decided it will be best to simply send you home rather than have you finish out the course of the year."

I was in shock. I couldn't believe what he was saying. _My father, arrested. Askaban. The ministry._ My mind couldn't process all this information. My world was being turned on its axis. And so, of course, the first thing out of my mouth was idiotic.

"But what about my grades, Headmaster?" I blurted it out and then silently cursed myself. There were so many more important things to ask.

I think Dumbledore had sensed my confusion and knew that I'd latched onto the only comprehensible thing about this entire affair. "Your grades will stay the same. No points will be deducted for missing exams due to exceptional circumstances."

I didn't listen. My mind was too busy piecing together everything that had happened in the past day. I'd been right– Ginny and the others had headed to the ministry. My father and a few Death Eaters had most likely been there. But who?

"Was anyone else arrested?" It came out as a demand, but I was too busy trying to figure things out to care.

I saw Dumbledore hesitate for a moment, probably knowing he shouldn't give me this information, but he exhaled and began talking. "I'm afraid your father was arrested along with Misters Rookwood, Dolohov, Nott, Mulciber, Jugson, Crabbe, Macnair, and Avery."

I swore to myself. Those were a lot of people I knew who were now behind bars. And I knew Voldemort would soon seek revenge. "I assume Theodore and Vincent have been notified about their father's arrests?" I asked politely.

"They will be called after you, Mr. Malfoy."

"And was anyone hurt in this incident?" I asked, specifically wanting to hear about the Weasleys. I didn't care about the Death Eaters.

Once again, I saw Dumbledore hesitate, but this time I was fairly sure he lied, "No. There was no one injured."

I nodded to myself. So who had been hurt? Had anyone died? If I had to guess, Dumbledore didn't tell me their names because they were members of the Order and I was now the disgraced son of a known Death Eater.

The door behind us opened and Dumbledore stood, motioning the person in. "Narcissa, we've gathered Draco and his things. You will find them outside."

I stood and turned to look at my mother. Her face seemed to have aged years in the past few months. Was it just from the stress of this event? Or other things? She was thinner too, as if she hadn't been eating; her clothes hung loosely on her normally beautiful frame. My mother tugged the green suit jacket tighter around her arms as she sniffled and held out an arm for me.

"Draco, let's go." Her face just seemed so sad, as if she'd fall apart at any moment.

In that moment, I realized exactly what the expression I'd seen in Dumbledore's eyes had been. It had been pity. He was sending me back to a broken home to take care of my ill mother, a disgraced family title, and possibly to face the vengeance of the Dark Lord. And I knew there was nothing that could be done. If I thought I played a good game of politics, Dumbledore was the all-time champion. He'd been outthinking Voldemort for years. There was nothing either of us could do.

I let my mother put her arm around me. She ducked her head against my chest and I began to realize exactly how small she'd become, not just in size, but in demeanor. It seemed as if she'd sunk into the background.

We exited the castle, our footsteps echoing as we, followed closely by an entourage, crossed the flagstone courtyard toward the awaiting carriages. As we did, I glanced over my shoulder to get one last look at the home I'd known for the past five years.

I took in the towering spires and flying buttresses and massive stone walls that disappeared in the clouds above. With one last painful glance, I turned away and took my place in a carriage. And, my mother clutching my hand for support, we rode away toward the next few months that I knew, then and there, would be complete misery.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The summer was agonizingly slow. I wrote to Ginny, but she never responded. My sources, namely Blaise, told me that she was alive and safe in her home. She just refused to respond to my letters. I wrote her nearly every day. Most of the time, it was less for her benefit and more for mine. I was stuck in a home full of people I could no longer trust or speak to. I needed someone to talk to.

My mother had lain nearly comatose on her bed from the moment we'd returned from Hogwarts. I spent an hour each day talking to her as she ignored me and simply stared at the delicately hung draperies of her bed. She never spoke back.

I often found myself wondering if she still possessed the capability of speech. It had been weeks since I'd heard her voice. I couldn't even remember the last thing she'd said to me. Had she spoken to me in the carriage as we left Hogwarts? I racked my brain, desperately trying to remember. What if those were the last words she would ever speak to me? The last words my mother– my loving, darling, beautiful mother– ever uttered and I couldn't remember them. I was disgusted with myself. What kind of son was I if I couldn't even remember that?

I had plenty of time to berate myself in my mind. I spent hours doing it every day, wondering if I could have paid more attention to what she'd said, if I could have found Ginny and my father and saved them both. Could I have?

As for the help, human or elf, I found them entirely untrustworthy. Capable and worthy of cleaning my plates, preparing my food, and hauling my laundry, yes, but certainly not trustworthy. I had to be careful now, I wasn't entirely sure of the game I was playing, but I was certain eventually I would be entangled in one of the most deadly kind.

I visited my father a few times in Azkaban. The differences between my father now and the father I used to know were remarkable– he was emaciated, his skeleton nearly peeking through his skin; his skin had yellowed; his hair had become thin and scraggly, as if he hadn't been eating; his eyes were hollow and fearful, as if he could no longer feel anything but terror.

The last time I'd visited, he hadn't spoken much, just repeated the same conversation we'd been having every time I went to see him. He had stared at me with those terrified hollowed eyes and spoken in a dead voice, as if he barely recognized me, "Draco, how's your mother?"

"She's fine." I didn't tell him the truth. He didn't need to know the scary things. He didn't need to know how mother barely spoke or ate. He didn't need to know that some times I had to force feed her. He didn't need to know that I was afraid I was about to lose another parent.

My father had enough to worry about. He'd murmured, "Good, good." But the response came out more as if he'd been talking to himself and less to me. I remember having glanced around the cold room. We were silent for a few minutes as he stared off into space and quit responding. A look of absence, as if the person inside his body had evacuated, crossed his face and I recognized this expression as the one my mother wore. I stood, squeezing his unresponsive body on the shoulder and left, leaving him in the cell to continue staring at the walls.

Halfway into my summer vacation, my mother managed to force herself out of bed. As soon as I saw her propped against a chair, dressed as nicely as she used to, I knew who was about to visit.

The Dark Lord.

I stood by her side as she sat in one of the plush chairs in the parlor, my mask of indifference glued firmly over my face despite the fact that I wanted to throttle him for all the havoc he had wreaked upon my life. How many other lives had he destroyed this way? Hundreds? Thousands?

But my mother acted as if nothing was amiss and so I did too, seating myself adjacent to her in a nearby chair, smiling and playing the part of doting son and aspiring Death Eater as my mother offered Voldemort a cup of tea.

He declined, which I had expected. I mean, really, he wasn't even human any more. Did he even need to eat?

My mother offered me a cup and this time I took it, flashing back to the conversation I'd had a few months ago with Dumbledore about him hating tea. Truth was, what I had needed then and what I needed now wasn't tea.

I needed a goddamn cigarette and a glass of hard liquor.

As the Dark Lord began to speak, his voice a slight hissing above the silence in the room, I grew more and more in desperate need of those vices.

"As you know, Narcissa, Draco, I asked Lucius to bring me that prophecy the night he was arrested. I feel partly responsible for the tragic circumstances that have fallen on your family."

For a split second, it seemed as if he was going to show remorse, show _some kind_ of human emotion. But no, as his red eyes met mine and I stared into the face of a monster, I knew he felt nothing but a strange, twisted satisfaction at having been able to ruin someone else's life. At this point, it no longer mattered _whose_ life he ruined, as long as he was tormenting someone. It made him feel powerful.

And the truth is, he was powerful. So much more powerful than me.

That's why, when he said his next sentences, I responded stoically rather than jumping out of my chair in disgust, or throttling him with rage, or grasping my mother's hand and whisking her away, or acting upon any of the million other impulses I had.

He continued speaking in that strange hiss and I felt myself pull at the collar of my elegant, black dress shirt in anticipation and fear. "I should have seen that Lucius wasn't strong enough, Narcissa. I should have seen it. And I should have seen earlier that your son possesses the strength Lucius lacks. That's why Draco is to join the Death Eaters immediately."

My mother and I both saw this for what it was– punishment for my father's failure– but I think we also saw what he meant it to seem– an opportunity to reclaim the family honor and restore order. I think that's why, despite all her flaws throughout this whole affair, she responded as eloquently as her old self, "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for this second chance, My Lord."

Most would assume that my mother was abandoning me to the wolves in an insane attempt to find some shred of dignity in this shithole of a situation we were in. But she was a Malfoy and, being one myself, I knew she was far more cunning than that. She'd seen through the ploy and found the only way out was to play into the Dark Lord's plan.

Unfortunately, after my own analysis of the situation, I'd come to the same conclusion. That's why, when the Dark Lord left our house, my mother and I sat in our seats, sipping our tea together, the two of us exploring the depths of our own minds to find another solution.

We found none. And so, two weeks later, I sat before a council of Death Eaters in a cold, stone room and watched, emotionlessly, as one of them tattooed the Dark Mark into the pale skin of my left forearm.

The pain was nearly unbearable, but I couldn't let it show. If I did, they would make my life a living hell. Becoming a Death Eater was a lot like being sent to Azkaban– if you showed any sort of weakness, the other prisoners would take advantage of it. Besides, I was supposed to be restoring honor to the ole Malfoy name, wasn't I?

I gazed out into the watching audience. My Aunt Bellatrix was standing at the front, a strange, twisted look on her face that I think was supposed to be an expression of pride but really looked as if she was extremely uncomfortable. I don't think that Aunt Bellatrix's face quite knew what it was like to feel anything but psychotic glee at causing other's pain. The clothes she wore were filthy, her hair pulled into a mess atop her head, and her fingernails black with grime, all attesting to the deranged state of her mind. Goyle senior was standing at the back of the audience, his broad frame taking up half of the room. He watched dully as if he didn't even recognize me. Really, Goyle, you forgot the Malfoy's already, did you? And then there was the Dark Lord, Voldemort himself, sitting at the front beside Bellatrix, his right hand and attack dog. The Dark Lord's eyes were especially ruby today, and I found myself wondering if his eyes became more vibrantly red with each life he ruined. For instance, if he'd just been out consuming a dozen infants, would his eyes shine even more maliciously crimson?

I shuddered at the thought and the Dark Lord smirked, his nonexistent lips twisting in amusement. I wondered briefly if he'd heard my thoughts and began to panic before I remembered that Snape had taught me Occlumency and Legilimens a year or so ago. I'd mastered it so completely that my mind was now guarded without me having to consciously do it.

When the ceremony was over and my arm was red from the tattoo, I was dismissed from the room. I left the chambers and nearly ran into my mother, who had stood outside the door and waited for me. Not being a Death Eater, she hadn't been allowed in the room. Nor, I imagined, did she want to go. I pulled my sleeve over my tattoo self-consciously, feeling as if we were both staring at it without looking at it directly. It had been too late, however. My mother had seen that shiny, permanent black stain of filth and hypocrisy that she'd seen on her husband's arm, the brand that had destroyed our lives, and she gathered me in her arms, sobbing out apologies until my shirt was soaked through.

It was a while until the Dark Lord summoned me. I'd known when he had recruited me that he had a specific task in mind. The weeks from my initiation to the summoning were just a matter of waiting. In the meantime, I'd stopped writing to Ginny. I couldn't tell her what had happened; I couldn't bear to think of the look of disgust she would give me.

I was summoned to the same room, but this time it was only the Dark Lord and Bellatrix in the room. The interaction was quick. I wanted to get it over with.

I knelt in front of the throne Voldemort sat on, bowing my head in respect to stare at the Persian carpet beneath my knees. He was silent for a moment before demanding, "Rise, Draco."

I did as he said, as if he was some sort of fucking king.

I stayed silent and he began to speak; I swear, that hissing sound made me briefly consider suicide. "Draco, Draco, Draco. You've done so well recently; you're adjusting wonderfully to becoming and Death Eater and already restoring your family's name to its former glory."

I almost laughed; I hadn't done anything thus far. He was simply trying to stroke my ego. It was sickening to think that these ploys actually worked on people. That they'd worked on my own father.

"I have a task for you, Draco, and I believe it is one you are strong enough to fulfill. I want you to eliminate Albus Dumbledore by the end of this year."

Holy shit. I felt like I was choking. I couldn't breathe. He wanted me to do what?

_I want you to eliminate Albus Dumbledore by the end of this year_. The words kept ringing in my mind. I will never forget that moment. Thirteen words. Thirteen words, so meticulously spoken, were enough to sentence me to an almost guaranteed death. There was nothing I could do.

Bellatrix cleared her throat and I realized they were waiting for me to leave.

I bowed, "Thank you, My Lord."

As I exited the room, my mother was once again waiting for me. She looked surprised. Well, of course she was. The exchange had taken a mere three minutes.

Three minutes were all it took to sentence me to death.

My mother grabbed my arm and led me out of the corridor and to the car we had waiting outside. When we were in the car, she whispered, "What is it, Draco? What did he want?"

_I want you to eliminate Albus Dumbledore by the end of this year_.

I spoke the words, my tongue heavy, and it felt as if it was someone else saying them instead of it being my voice that rang through the air with such a tone of finality it startled even me. "He asked me to kill Dumbledore."


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It's interesting how, despite the reluctance I felt toward the task I was given, I couldn't take my mind off it. I should have been able to store it away and ignore it, as I usually did, but I suppose my mind realized that the only way out of this situation alive was for me to somehow do the impossible and outsmart the most intelligent man alive. Easy, right?

Eventually, a story came to mind. A fellow Slytherin had once told me that he'd been trapped in a vanishing cabinet at school. During his time in limbo, he'd been able to hear sounds both from Hogwarts and from a store–Borgin and Burkes.

At first, I wasn't sure why this story kept reappearing in my thoughts. It was almost as if part of my brain was poking me and yelling, "Draco, look at this, you idiot!" And then, one day, as I was marveling at how similar the newest Firebolt was to the old one, almost like _twins_, I got it.

The cabinet had a twin. Of course, it linked a passage between the two places. It would allow me to sneak the Death Eaters into the castle. There was no way Dumbledore knew about it. I spit out the toast I'd been chewing and threw it on the table. My mother looked up from the paper she'd been reading–she'd decided to pull herself together for me after I was given the task– as I jumped out of my chair and began running out of the room.

That afternoon, my mother and I visited Diagon Alley. I needed new robes, having grown a few more inches over the summer, as well as having been named Prefect. At Madam Malkins, I stood patiently as the old woman tried to hem my robes. The woman was bent over a sleeve, squinting. Really, hadn't her eyesight become too poor for this job? She began to roll up the sleeve on my left arm and I panicked. She couldn't see the mark. No one could know. I didn't want to deal with the shame and humiliation. It was bad enough that I refused to even glance at that arm any more.

I pulled my arm away from her and began yelling. As I did, I noticed the three figures standing in the corner and my anger and fear exploded inside me. The last thing I needed was Potter and his friends messing around and discovering my dirty secret.

I turned toward them and growled, "I thought I smelled the stench of mudblood." I winced a bit as I said the word; Ginny would have hated me.

Potter's comeback was idiotic as usual, "Shut up, Malfoy."

I wanted to curse him, but decided against it, instead going with an air of superiority as I said, "Come, mother, I believe there are other shops around that have higher standards."

We left the store and my mother and I separated to cover more ground. She went to find schoolbooks while I wandered off to Borgin and Burkes. The tinkling of a bell overhead signaled my entrance into the store. Borgin immediately jumped from the back of the store to see who it was. Apparently, my presence didn't hold the same appeal as it used to.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy. What are you doing here?" His voice was bored and disrespectful.

"What am I doing here? My father did quite a deal of business with you and now I'm here to ask you a favor."

"Favor? What could possibly make me want to have anything to do with your family? You aren't as important as you once were, boy, not since that no-good father of yours was sent to Azkaban." Borgin was nearly yelling.

This wouldn't do. I smirked at him and when I spoke my voice was deadly, "_Wrongfully accused_, Borgin. Do those words mean anything to you?"

Borgin suddenly decided to come to his senses, apparently, because the old fear that he used to gaze at my father with was back in his eyes. This time, however, he was staring at me.

"You're just like your father–malicious."

I smirked, "No, Borgin. I'm much worse." I thought to myself, fuck it, and pulled up the sleeve of my shirt, brandishing my tattoo as if it was a weapon. It might as well have been.

Borgin blanched and backed away from me as if the tattoo itself could harm him.

"Now, Borgin, I want you to put that–" I pointed to the cabinet in the corner. "On reserve for me. Don't let anyone near it."

Borgin seemed to have regained some of his pride because he stuck his chin up at me, "Or what?"

I considered his words for a moment and smiled pleasantly, "Or I'll sic Fenrir Grayback on you. I think we both know how much he would love an excuse to pay you a visit. Now, don't let anyone touch it. I'll be back later."

I didn't specify when _later_ would be and strolled out of the store, rolling my sleeve down and frowning to myself. I was not having a good day.

My day didn't get any better. As I reentered Diagon Alley, I saw a familiar flash of red and froze in my place.

_Ginny._ Of course she was here. I'd seen her brother earlier with Potter and Granger.

I stood and watched her. She was with her mother across the street, looking into the window of a store. And, my god, looked so beautiful. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, a few tendrils having escaped and fallen gently down her face. The light blue dress she wore hugged her body gorgeously. I would have given anything to speak to her.

As if she'd read my mind, she whipped her head around in that instance to make eye contact with me. Curiously, she didn't even seem surprised to see me standing there, on a corner of Diagon Alley, staring at her. We continued to stare into one another's eyes for a bit more; scenes of our past played through my mind. An image of her laughing, tossing her head back. The sight of her crying about one of her brothers. The feel of her body against mine as we made love. The sound of her gentle sigh as we lay together in that hotel room.

And then, it was over. My mother tugged on my arm and I broke eye contact. When I looked back, Ginny was gone.

A few days later, I boarded the Hogwarts Express. I sat in my usual compartment, listening as my friends spoke about their vacations. I didn't want to think about mine.

Blaise, at one point, turned and gave me a curious look, as if to ask if I was all right. Truthfully, no. I wasn't okay at all. But I waved him off anyway. When the time came for my friends to ask me about my vacation, the door strangely jammed and then flew open again. As it did, I saw a sneaker as whomever it was climbed upwards onto the luggage rack.

I smirked; you want to play, Potter? Let's play. I spent the next half hour saying the most cryptic things possible about my summer in order to drive Harry Potter mad. I knew it would drive him absolutely crazy, trying to figure out what I was up to. But honestly, this game was too dangerous for him to continue. I would have to make him quit.

That's why, when my friends left the train for the feast, I stayed behind and waited for the entire train to empty before I whipped out my wand and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry's body slumped to the floor with a thud. I pulled his invisibility cloak–where the hell did he get one of these, anyway?–off his body and smirked. "Stay away from me, Potter, you aren't as clever as you think."

I don't know why I did it, perhaps I felt the need to take out my frustrations–frustrations with my mother, my father, the Dark Lord, Ginny– out on someone. Part of me knew I needed to make Potter stay away from me, for his own good as well as mine. If Voldemort knew he was snooping, he'd undoubtedly get us both killed. I was already on a possible suicide mission, no need to bring the wizarding world's only hope down with me. Whatever the reason, I stomped on his face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack, and covered his prone body with his invisibility cloak before I strode off the train and toward the feast.

A few days later, I spotted Ginny sitting in the dining hall and I knew then that we needed to talk. I hadn't heard from her all summer. What the fuck was that about? Anger welled up in my chest as I scribbled a note:

_Meet me in the library. Now._

I proceeded to walk toward where she stood, chatting with a couple of Gryffindors. When I got close enough, I bumped my shoulder into hers and slipped the note into her hand.

I then made a loop around the dining hall and, instead of sitting with the Slytherins, walked past their table and out into the great hall toward the library. As I passed my table, I made eye contact with Blaise who gave me another troubled expression.

I'd been standing in a far corner of the deserted library, staring out a window, for about ten minutes before Ginny finally showed up. As she entered, I turned from the window to stare at her. She gave me that same look she'd given me in Diagon Alley.

She crossed her arms and leaned against a bookcase, "So, what is it?"

_What is it?_ How could she ask that? Did she even know the agony I went through this summer? I felt the threads that held me together beginning to snap. I had a million questions I wanted to scream at her, a million horrible stories I needed to tell her, but when I spoke, all that came out was a whispered question. "Why didn't you write?"

She shrugged and looked down at her hands as she pulled at the hem of her sweater, "I didn't have time, Draco. I'm sorry."

"You were too busy to write?" I asked, dumbfounded. How was that even possible? After all the things I'd managed to get done this summer, she'd been too busy?

She hesitated and I could see the lie in her eyes, "Yes."

"Shut up." I growled. I thought I was going to be sick as the possible reasons for why she would lie swirled in my mind.

"Excuse me?" She gasped.

"You heard me. I told you to shut the hell up. If you're going to try to lie to me, you might as well not even speak." I ran my hands through my hair in agitation.

She looked away and bit her lip. When she spoke, it was in a whisper, "Do you even know what happened that night at the ministry? My father nearly died. And _your_ father is the one who attacked him. I was there. I saw the it all!" She trailed off, but I could tell there was more she wanted to say.

"You aren't finished. Go on, spit it out!" I was yelling now, but I couldn't find a way to care.

"This isn't fucking working, Draco! It doesn't matter how much we love each other! No matter what we do, we're always going to be at opposite ends!"

She had no idea how much more we were at opposite sides now. I stayed silent and just stared at her, watching as she tore at her long red locks.

Her voice was a whisper when she spoke again and this time I saw she was crying. She was pleading with me to understand. "We can't possibly work out. I've tried to find a way; really, I have Draco. There is no scenario in which our families don't kill each other. My brothers spent the entire summer talking about how much they wanted your father dead! And we all fucking know how your family feels about mine."

She had a point. It was one I'd thought of long ago. It had been a problem that I'd found a way to cope with. Now, however, it didn't matter; everything was different. That one night in the ministry had changed _everything_. How was it possible that one deranged man's actions could have taken everything between Ginny and I–everything that had been so sweet and perfect– and turned it into this tangled, irrevocable mess?

The anger swelled up into my chest again and I began yelling, "That's why you didn't write this summer? Because your dad had been injured? What do you think happened to me? Everything wasn't just completely merry and fucking perfect in Malfoy Manor, Gin! I didn't spend my summer days sipping tea and playing cricket! It was a complete shithole! My father went to fucking _prison_, Ginny! Do you even understand what that means? I _needed _you! Do you hear me? I, Draco Malfoy, needed _you_, and you refused to be there! You can't even imagine the horrors I saw! God, you're so fucking selfish! You didn't even think about me once, did you? _Did you?_"

Ginny was crying; she was crying and I'd made her cry. I felt a pang of guilt, but it was numbed beneath the weight of my fury. "I thought about you _every day,_ Draco. I wanted to write; I knew you probably weren't doing well. But I couldn't, Draco, I couldn't. My family had nearly been torn apart because of yours. Your family put mine through so much pain!"

That was the last fucking straw; she didn't even understand the concept of pain. That's why I began to roll up the sleeve of my left arm as I spat at her, "You can't even comprehend pain. You want to know pain? Here, look! _This is pain!_" I showed her the mark and she began to cry even harder.

She was sobbing, "Oh, Draco. I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't, Gin. You were too busy breaking up with me to give a fuck." With those words, I stormed out of the library, leaving Ginny to ponder my words and the stain on my arm.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

After my confrontation with Ginny, I wandered around the castle until I found myself lying in my bed, staring at the canopy. At some point, Blaise came and got me and forced me to go to my classes. I don't think he knew all that was going on, but I think he had a good idea.

Over the next few weeks, I attended my classes and listened to my professors and walked with my friends in the hallway, but the truth is I wasn't actually there for any of it. I barely felt alive. I put my hand to my chest; was I even breathing? It didn't feel like it.

I felt like I was drowning. I felt like the waters were pulling me under and everyone was watching, but no one would throw me a lifeline. I felt myself gasping for oxygen, my lungs burning, but I couldn't seem to get enough air.

Every once in a while, I thought I saw Ginny. A red flash in the corner of my eye, or even the sound of her laugh echoing through the halls. I began to imagine what it would be like if she was with me. The jokes or the idiotic things Crabbe had said earlier in the day that I would tell her about. Anything to hear her laugh. What would she say about Blaise's sudden friendship or the fact that Pansy hadn't made another move against me yet?

I was overwhelmed with the constant questions of why she'd stopped wanting me. Why didn't she want me any more? Why wasn't I good enough; why wasn't I worth it? What had I done?

And then, even worse, was there anything I could have done to prevent this?

I could no longer sleep. I spent my nights wandering the halls; under pretense of performing my Prefect duties where in reality I'd all but neglected them. Really I just liked roaming the halls at night. It was much better than lying in my bed and staring at the canopy every night.

It was on one of these nights that I remembered the Room of Requirement and Montague's story. And so, I crossed that section of the hall thrice while thinking to myself that I needed a place where something could be hidden. The doors opened to an enormous room. It seemed to stretch miles; inside piles of junk towered over me. It began my new favorite place to wander at night.

I felt as if I was no longer alive, as if Voldemort had already killed me and I was simply a ghost wandering the halls. Perhaps I was. Or perhaps this was all a nightmare that I was stuck in.

I was becoming quite sure of that until one day, something that Blaise said woke me up.

"_What?"_

Blaise was taking a bite of toast and looked at me warily, "Yeah, I heard Weasley and Potter were dating."

Crabbe interjected, seeing this as opportunity to make a lame joke, "You mean Ron and Harry, right? I always knew they were perfect for each another."

I sighed; that joke could have been so much better.

"No, Crabbe, you idiot. Potter's dating the girl Weasley!" Pansy hissed at him from across the table while giving me a spiteful, malicious grin.

I nodded at her to let her know that _I got it._ We'd both lost. Maybe now she'd let it go.

Blaise and I left the table almost immediately after and head to our Potions class. On the way, I began speaking to him in lowered tones, "I can't believe Potter had the guts to ask her out! I mean, he doesn't even have the fucking balls to handle her! He can't possibly handle her; she's just too much for him! She's too exciting and lively and her emotions are _all over the fucking place_! Potter won't know what to do with himself. He needs somebody boring, someone he can actually keep up with–like that Cho Chang girl."

Blaise took this time to interject, "Oh yeah, Diggory's old girlfriend, that one?"

I nodded.

"Damn, that chick really is boring. You know, I don't think I've ever seen her smile." Blaise turned to smirk at me.

"What? What're you looking at me like that for?" The look he was giving me was starting to freak me out. My skin was crawling.

He shrugged and shouldered his bag, "Just glad to have you back, Drake."

As he slapped my shoulder and headed for his workstation, I stopped in my tracks and smiled to myself. News about Ginny had woken me up. I really was back.

"You know, Pansy's been throwing me triumphant looks all day." I whispered to Blaise during our potions lesson.

He snorted while adding a bit of powdered unicorn horn to his potion, "I'm sure she has. She couldn't destroy you, but she got the next best thing with this. Losing your girl to your enemy? Yeah, I'm sure she's extremely pleased."

I thought about that. _Losing your girl to your enemy._ He was right. I _had_ lost Ginny. Despite my strange behavior since my last discussion with her, I'd still had a fleck of hope in my heart that she'd come back. I now felt that hope disappearing and my heart darkened as if clouds had suddenly rolled over and eternally blocked the meager sunshine that had managed to filter through before.

I scowled and was silent for the rest of the lesson as I focused on my potion.

I slammed my hand onto the desk and her red head popped up in surprise. Brown eyes widened and connected with mine and again in that glance, I could see all the history and tension that flowed between us. It was surprising no one else could see it when we were in the same room. I felt like it should be a giant neon sign floating above our heads.

She looked around at the deserted library and hissed at me, slamming her book shut, "What are you doing?"

I adjusted my voice to be as infuriated as hers and leaned over the table to glare at her, "What are _you_ doing with Potter?"

She leaned toward me and matched my scowl, "Dating. The occasional hug. A brief make out session every now and then."

I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. "You know that's not what I meant."

Her brown eyes widened in mock surprise, "Oh, then do you mean what am I doing with him in the cosmic, what-is-this-thing-called-life sense? Because that's a much deeper question with an answer not many agree upon. Personally, I believe life began with smaller organisms, which eventually developed into impressive examples of human beings such as you and I. Others, however, happen to believe in gods, which is a much more touchy subject. I believe it all began with–"

I finally decided to interrupt her, having had enough of her idiotic rambling. She was just avoiding the subject. My glare deepened, "No. What the fuck do you think you're doing dating Harry Potter?"

She smirked, "Oh, that's what you meant. Well, why didn't you say so? I'm dating Harry Potter because I bloody feel like it, you pretentious asshole."

Oh my god, this woman got under my skin. I couldn't let it show. "And why is that? It can't possibly be for his charming personality. Or is it for that stunning wit? He almost told a joke yesterday, you know. I think you would have been impressed. Perhaps his superior intelligence? No, it can't be that, or you'd just fuck Granger. Let me guess, his problems with authority just drive you wild; he is quite the badass. Except, of course, when compared with the average nine year old girl."

She gave me a cruel look, "For your information, I happen to like Harry because he's kind and brave."

The way she said it made it clear she wanted me to know I was neither of those things. "Uh huh. And when have I ever been cruel or cowardly?"

She tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully and tossed her hair, "Hm, let me think about that one. Oh, I don't know, perhaps the last time we spoke when you told me I was selfish and stormed out of the library."

Ouch, touché. I was at a loss for words for a split second. "I was no less cruel or cowardly than when you refused to answer my letters."

She stood from her chair and stalked toward me, "We've already discussed this. Your family nearly killed me, my father, my brothers, and all of my friends!"

I nearly tore my hair out. "My father isn't me! And you aren't your father or your mother! We're our own people, Ginny. Stop making decisions based on them." And then, I saw it in her eyes. I'd touched so closely to the subject that I'd seen the truth. I was almost blown away. I rocked back on my heels. "That's why you're doing this, isn't it? You're dating him because you feel that you betrayed your family by fucking me. So you're trying to overcompensate for that."

She stayed silent, but her guilty look as she glanced downward said it all.

"Holy shit, Red! You've got to be fucking kidding me. And what, you're just going to marry him and live unhappily ever after and have tons of scar-faced brats running around? Is that really the fate you've assigned yourself?"

My voice must have let her know exactly how weak I thought she was being because her head snapped up, the red tendrils flying around as she advanced on me, her brown eyes alight with an angry blaze. "The fate I've assigned myself? And what about the fate you've assigned yourself? You're a fucking Death Eater now! You joined a group of people you hate! You're following a man you proclaimed to be a psychopath and whose methods you think are complete bullshit! All for what? So you can restore your family name? Don't you dare pass judgment on me when you've done so much worse! At least I'm not running around practicing genocide!"

For the first time in my life, I spoke without thinking. My voice caught as I yelled the words, "I'm not doing this to restore my family name, Gin! If I don't, he will kill me! Don't you get it? I have to do this!"

She paused. "What do you mean you have to do this? You mean you had to become a Death Eater? Or…" She gasped, "Oh my god, Draco, do you have to do something for him?"

Given that her family made up a huge part of the Order, it was no surprise she'd figured out the truth so quickly; she probably knew more about Voldemort than I did. I backpedaled, "No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I meant that I had to become a Death Eater."

She saw right through it, of course. She could always call my bluffs. "You're lying."

Yes, I was. But her knowing too much would be the death of both of us. "I can't tell you the details. But just know that I'm not going through with it."

She gave me a frown, "You aren't?"

She was surprised at my response. So was I. I'd been planning on trying as much as I could to go through with it until this conversation. I hadn't even realized that I'd changed my mind, irrevocably changed it due to some part of this discussion, until I'd told her. But, when I affirmed it, my voice was strong. "No, I'm not."

My mind was racing. I'd just sentenced myself to an almost certain death. And yet, some part of me was calmer than it had been in months. I felt an inner peace settle over me. This was the right choice.

She was silent for a while as she stared down at the desk. When she spoke, she wouldn't meet my eyes and her voice was a whisper, "But that means he'll kill you."

"I know. But what he's asking me to do is much worse."

She stared down at the wood grain of the desk again for a few moments and then began to pack up her things. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I watched her movements before turning around and heading toward the library door. When I was halfway there, I heard her call my name.

"Draco?" Her voice seemed so sad; it broke my heart.

I looked over my shoulder at her, feeling my heart break even more as I saw the tears in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"I lied too."

Oh, god. "About what?"

"You're the bravest man I know."

I dropped the bag I'd been holding and strode toward her, cupping her face in my hands and wiping her tears away with my thumbs. As I cradled her against my chest, I made hushing noises to calm her sobs. Eventually, she pulled back and stared at me for a few moments, the look on her face making me wish I could hear her thoughts. Just as I was beginning to feel that I should leave, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to mine.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

It was the kind of kiss that was earth shattering. I closed my eyes and I pressed her body close to mine, so close that it was as if I was trying to meld our bodies into one. After all this time, all the weeks of heartbreak, here she was, back in my arms. I held her all the tighter at that thought; I opened her lips with mine and my tongue tangoed with hers as I cupped her face and one of my hands ran through her hair.

But for all of its momentousness, or perhaps because of it, it ended far too soon. I don't know who broke the kiss first or why. There were a million reasons each of us should feel the wrongness of it. And yet, it was so _right_. As we separated, I stared down at her, gazing into those mischievous dark eyes I loved as her lips quirked in amusement, causing me to smirk back at her, and in her eyes I saw all the love she held for me. Love for _me_, not for her family or the Order or Potter. _Love for me_. It was the first time I had ever seen someone look at me that way and it made my breath catch. But, just as suddenly as this had all started, she'd gathered her things and left the room, leaving just the scent of her perfume behind.

Needless to say, at the dinner table I was smug. Blaise was the first to catch on to my change in attitude, smirking at me as I walked to the table, my old pride in my step. I chatted with my friends, throwing the occasional insult in there when they said something completely idiotic, and eventually Pansy was also alerted to the change. We made eye contact over the bread at the table and she hatefully glared at me; knowing that our positions had changed since breakfast that morning, I smirked triumphantly at her, feeling the metaphorical winds of victory at my back. I had most certainly won for today.

"All right, mate, I assume you got her back." Blaise remarked after dinner as we stood alone in my dormitory.

I thought about that as I plucked a spell book from the shelf of carefully alphabetized texts. Had I got her back? I didn't think so. "Actually, I'm not sure. Until she breaks up with Potter, there's no way I'll touch her again."

He shot me a quizzical look, "Why not? Getting her to cheat on your worst enemy and then crush his heart, sounds like the Draco I used to know."

I gave him a heavy look and then answered nonchalantly, "Because I know from personal experience that getting cheated on sucks."

Not that I didn't want the absolute worst for Potter. I followed up my underhanded comment to Blaise with the truth, "Besides, I couldn't possibly kiss her knowing that I was sharing her with someone else. It would be like indirectly kissing scarface." I made a face as if the thought disgusted me. It did, but that wasn't the issue exactly. What really disgusted me was the thought that Ginny, _my_ _Ginny_, was kissing someone else. I hadn't thought about it much before, but after having just kissed her, the thought of her doing that, and possibly more, with someone else, someone who wasn't me, made me want to vomit.

"But you two did make up sort of." Blaise stated, clearly confused as to why I was so happy if I hadn't actually gotten the girl.

"Yes, I suppose. But honestly, that's all that's in our future." After all, if I was a dead man walking, Ginny would want nothing to do with me.

He sighed exasperatedly and fell back onto one of the beds, covering his face with his hands as he struggled to puzzle out my strange behavior. Finally, with another groan, he flopped his hands onto the bed, "Then _why_ exactly are you acting so crazy?"

I plucked the book I'd been searching for from my shelf, "Ah, here it is! Because, Blaise, I'm not going to do it."

He was beyond frustrated at this point and was rapidly becoming angry, "Do _what_?"

I hissed at him, refusing to name the task I'd been handed down from Voldemort. "Blaise, _IT!"_

"Draco, what the fuck–" He sat bolt right up and gave me a horrified look. "Oh, no, Draco! You can't! Have you gone absolutely _insane?"_

I stared at the pages of my book and began flipping hastily through them, without looking up, my voice indifferent and preoccupied, I replied, "No, I don't think so."

Blaise shot me another bewildered look, shook his head, and jumped off the bed and began to frantically pace around the room. "You're absolutely mental! You're willingly sentencing yourself to death, Drake! Do you fucking know what that means? No more of _this_!" He waved his arms around his head to vaguely demonstrate what his last word meant.

"Yes, I know." I murmured from where I sat, staring at the pages of my book.

"You _know?_ You bloody well know?! Are you fucking kidding me, Draco? This is such bullshit! You probably don't even have a goddamn plan!" Blaise was now standing in front of me, spitting out his words, a fire alight in his dark eyes.

I looked up at him calmly, knowing someone had to contain their head in this conversation. Unlike my fights with Ginny, which were full of rage and passion, I'd decided to simply let Blaise yell; with Ginny, we were both constantly feeding off each other's heat, building a fire that eventually erupted into an inferno. No one could quite make me feel things the way she did.

"I do have a plan. Would you like to calm down long enough to hear it?"

Blaise clenched his jaw and nodded tightly. "I would _love_ to hear an explanation for this."

I sighed, "I can't do it. I can't kill Dumbledore. The only thing I can do is refuse to kill him and then hope that he takes out all the Death Eaters with me. That way, at least I've done my best to reduce their numbers. I could simply tell Voldemort that I don't want to do it, but he would kill my mother first. I can't have that on my conscience, even if I don't plan to live very long. But if I can convince him I'll try to kill Dumbledore and then somehow fail to do it; it might just give Dumbledore enough of a chance to take out a dozen Death Eaters at once. And it might save anyone else from getting hurt."

"You're crazy." Blaise sounded as if he was about to pass out. "And not even in a so-crazy-it-will-work way. You're just fucking mental."

"No, I'm not. It's the only way, Blaise."

He looked at me sitting there so calmly and shook his head, "I need to get you committed right now."

"Blaise, I've played out the scenario in my head a hundred times. No matter what I do, I end up dead. If I refuse Voldemort, I die. If I fight Dumbledore, I die. If I even manage to somehow kill Dumbledore and then escape the castle, I would then be forced to return to Voldemort. He would then either view me as a threat and he'd most certainly put me six feet under. There's no way for me to live. The best I can do is make sure I weaken the Death Eaters as much as possible. And for that, I need your help."

"Draco, this is so fucking selfish! You're just going to leave me here?" His voice broke and for an instant I saw in his eyes the dark horror that constantly chased him around. Blaise was truly the perfect conman. His good looks so carefully concealed a dark, twisted, tormented psyche that only I knew about; any one else who suspected exactly how close to insanity he was, driven by the deep sense of loneliness he experienced, had their suspicions erased by a flash of his beautiful smile. He'd learned, taught from a young age by a mother equally as beautiful as him, to use his good looks to his advantage, to manipulate people. But that same manipulative set of skills he'd been taught kept most people, unknowingly, from actually becoming familiar with who he really was. His friends were merely acquaintances, his acquaintances were mere irritations in his life, and his enemies might as well have been dead unless they were directly in front of him. All the while, Blaise had nearly the entire school under the impression, the impression given to them by a deceivingly friendly flash of his smile, that they knew him personally. I was truly the only one who understood the dark sense of loneliness behind that grin.

"Blaise, don't you get it? If I don't do this, I'll die any way. And if I simply refuse, he'll probably kill my family. He'll probably kill _you._"

"Okay, let's just pretend that you make sense for one second, which, by the way, _you don't_. How do you plan to do this?"

"With this!" I grinned at him triumphantly as I slid the spell book toward him and pressed my finger to the page.

"With this?" His face became more worried as he read through the spell, "Can you even complete this spell?"

I shrugged, "I guess I won't know until I try."

Blaise slid the book back across the table to me and leaned against the wall, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to take this all in. After a while, he spoke, "All right. Let me get this straight. You want to mend that fucking cupboard in Borgin and Burkes so you can sneak a dozen Death Eaters into the castle, then lead them to Dumbledore, suddenly surrender, and just _hope_ that Dumbledore manages to kill them after they kill you? Did I forget anything?"

I nodded very seriously and held back my smile. "You forgot the undying legacy I will most likely leave behind as well as the hundreds, if not thousands, of broken hearts and tears that will be shed at my untimely, tragic, but altruistic death."

I saw the glint of a grin cross his face, "Well, you didn't say anything about a fucking legacy, mate. That changes everything."

It certainly did indeed.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Blaise was the kind of man who understood exactly what it meant I'd set my mind to something. I think that somewhere during our argument he'd come to the stunning realization that no matter how insane my plan was, I'd already decided to do it before I'd told him.

That's why when the rest of our classmates were asleep, Blaise and I set out into the castle to find that stupid cupboard and repair it.

As we walked, I noticed that Blaise's typical devil-may-care spirit had been replaced by something much darker. Is this what he would be like when I was gone? Would he become some monstrous version of himself, no longer feeling the need to use his pretty face to cover the twisted mind beneath it? And what would happen after that? I knew Blaise could be violent sometimes; I just wasn't sure how much.

Would my death be the end of him?

We were standing in front of the cabinet, each observing it. I glanced over to read his face. The beautiful planes of his face had become hardened into lines; his jaw clenched, I saw the muscles move beneath his skin as his dark eyes accusingly stared at the cupboard.

"Blaise." His dark eyes flickered up at the sound of his name and stared at me, the look still accusing. He was mad at me for the decision I'd made. But he'd still decided to help me any way.

Blaise was a damn good friend. "Thanks for your help."

He nodded silently and swallowed.

Seeing that he wasn't going to talk to me any time soon, we set to work.

It was sometime in the early morning when we finished mending the cabinet. We left the Room of Requirement together, but Blaise, yawning, headed off to bed. I couldn't sleep; the day's events were still playing over and over again in my head, like background music I simply couldn't shut off.

I thought about how it had felt to learn Ginny was dating Harry. Even now, it still pissed me off, but I understood on some level why she was doing it. Being a traitor to your family name was fucked up. Most people would do anything to make amends for that.

Which lead to the question, why wasn't I sorry for what I'd done and what I planned to do? After all, I'd certainly been a traitor. I'd slept with the enemy. And there was no disputing the fact that I was a traitor now. My own father was a Death Eater; he'd risked everything he had for Voldemort's cause.

But my father, he was a special case. He'd been arrested and I'd been slated to take his place and act as a sacrifice. Yes, he was a special case. Or was he?

I didn't know; was I exempt from feeling any sort of guilt in these situations? Or was I merely not feeling the guilt I should feel? It was difficult to say.

My mind traveled back to Ginny, to how it had felt to once again hold her in my arms and kiss her. I hadn't wanted to let go, but like all good things it had had to end.

As if my thoughts of her had summoned her, Ginny suddenly appeared. I heard her voice floating down the hallway, accompanied by another.

I was confused at first; what would Ginny be doing out this late at night? And then I recognized the other voice–Potter.

Well, damn.

I wasn't entirely sure what to do. And then I remembered, I'm a fucking prefect.

It was this realization that brought me quickly to another one– I'd become so enraptured by my own problems that I'd nearly forgotten who I was.

I was Draco fucking Malfoy. What the hell was I doing? I didn't just hand over my girl to some bumbling idiot who didn't know the first thing about handling women like that. I didn't just look a man in the eye, shrug, and mumble, "Sure, Potter, you can have Ginny. You're right, she'd be better off with you."

Where had my head been?

Oh right, I'd been contemplating my death.

Suicide by Headmaster.

But even then, with impending doom, Draco Malfoy didn't just give the fuck up. He didn't roll over. And he most certainly did not give up the love of his life.

I'm an idiot.

I stepped out of the shadows and cleared my throat. Their voices cut off immediately, as if the sudden silence could confuse me into thinking it was my imagination that had caused the noise.

I'm not sure I had that great of an imagination to begin with; imagination wasn't something that brought such pride to the Malfoy name that it was instilled in their progeny from an early age.

I smirked and walked toward where they stood at the end of the hall, frozen in shock. The light filtered in through the stain glass windows and I suddenly recognized where we were– the hallway Ginny and I had originally used as our old rendezvous point.

Potter stood, staring stupidly as I approached, glasses skewed awkwardly, his mouth hanging open in obvious shock. It was an expression I knew well; he wore it nearly every time I saw him. It made me wonder exactly what Ginny saw in him. My ego insisted that I was much better looking.

And then there was Ginny, standing beside him. They contrasted sharply, not only in looks, but in stance. Potter nearly cowered while Ginny faced me with her hands on her hips, her jaw set, a look of fiery defiance in her brown eyes.

I always felt an overwhelmingly odd sense of pride when I saw her like that. It also made me sense an impending fight. I loved fighting with her, nearly as much as I loved making love with her. The two were nearly one and the same– both intensely passionate to the core.

I dragged my gaze from Ginny's and turned to Potter as I nearly growled, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for being out late, Potter. Now get back to your common room."

Harry gave Ginny a regretful look as he fled, completely forgetting to even ask why I wasn't dismissing Ginny as well.

She crossed her arms and gave me a penetrating glare that clearly said she didn't welcome whatever I had to say.

"You really shouldn't be out this late." I said; I don't know why I said it. I hadn't stopped her from returning to her dorm so I could give her a good speech about the dangers of wandering the halls late at night–I'd wanted to make a grandiose gesture of love, to remind her that she belonged with me– but when I opened my mouth, that's what came out.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind, _dad_."

I smirked, she had a point. I was being strangely fatherly. I couldn't help it though. I loved her. I couldn't stand the thought of her getting into trouble, even though part of my soul reminded me that her mischievous ways were something I worshipped.

"So… you obviously didn't want to chat about me being out past curfew. What the hell's this about, Draco?" She snapped.

I was at a loss for words. And then they tumbled out, three of them, to be precise. "I love you."

Her face immediately softened; the hard lines of her jaw diminishing until her lips formed a small, sad smile. "I love you too, Draco."

She clearly didn't understand why I was telling her. I ran my hands through my hair and took another step closer to her until we were mere inches apart. "No, Gin, I love you. I need to be with you. I realized something tonight. We belong together, you and me. No matter where we are, you're all I think about. You're always with me, in my thoughts and my heart. And I can't believe that you don't feel this way too. It's been driving me crazy, this feeling of being apart from you. And when I shut it out, I just end up shutting everything out. Before I met you, it's like I didn't exist. I was just wandering around life waiting for something. I was waiting for you. I can't ignore that any longer, Red. It's killing me inside. Please, Gin."

"But Draco, you're planning on killing yourself." She said, her voice small.

I saw the tears beginning to fall and my voice lowered to a whisper, "I know, I know. And it isn't fair of me to ask you to do this. But we only have so much time left, Ginny. We've been given this wonderful thing, this opportunity, and we're squandering it away by trying to ignore our feelings for one another. It's been so painful. But one more moment with you would be worth it all. I'm just asking for us to be together for the rest of my life, Red. If all goes as planned, that really won't be so long in the scheme of things. I can't promise you forever, Red. I wish I could; I wish I had that time to give to you. All I can give you is the rest of my existence."

She nodded, "I have to think about this, Draco."

I gave her a sad smile and watched as she turned and walked down the hall, the pastel hues from the stained glass washing out her bright hair.

The next morning, I sat beside Blaise and picked at a piece of sausage as he chatted with Daphne, who'd finally stopped ignoring him. Pumpkins and dried leaves were piled in the corners of the dining hall, signaling the beginning of mid-November.

"What?" I nearly choked on my piece of sausage as I swiveled to look directly at Blaise.

My friend's dark eyes looked at me with amusement, "You heard right, Drake. Weasley broke up with Potter."

Crabbe snorted as he reached for another biscuit and poured gravy on it, "Too bad, I could have sworn Ron and Harry were a match made in heaven."

My god, it was fucking déjà vu.

"Shut the fuck up, Crabbe." Pansy grumbled from where she sat. We made eye contact and I grinned smugly at her.

As I stood to leave the table, I made eye contact with Ginny from across the room. We each stood beside our tables as my grey eyes met her brown ones. The fork I'd been holding dropped from my hand, making a small clatter against my plate. The conversation we had last night flitted through my mind and the tension I felt between us was so thick, so palpable, I was once again surprised that no one in the dining hall had stopped talking. She gave me a small smile and a wink before leaving me standing at my table to contemplate her actions.


	20. Chapter 19

A/N: I hate to do this because I feel it ruins the entire feel of the chapter, but I'm going to write an author's note. When reviewing, let's use our judgment, shall we? For instance, I recently got an anonymous review that this story contained a lot of "Harry-bashing". Personally, I don't think it contains enough. They're sworn enemies, people. This story is written from Draco's perspective. Please stop putting two and two together and getting five. Sworn enemies are going to trash talk one another. Harry does it plenty of times in the actual books. Let's remember that two plus two equals four from now on, shall we?

-Katy

Chapter 19

"You did what?" Ginny hissed harshly.

I'd been rubbing circles gently on her back as she lay beside me in the Room of Requirement, the draperies of the bed we were on hanging loosely above our heads. "I had to." I murmured.

"No, you didn't! You _did not have to_! I mean, god, Draco, how do you even know you can trust him? He was stabbing you in the back last month!" She stopped for a moment as a thought occurred to her and her face turned white. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "What if he tells Voldemort what you're planning?"

I gave her a serious look and considered her question, dropping my hand to my side. After a moment, I responded simply. "He won't."

She was getting angry and frightened at the same time, what I knew to be a deadly combination when Ginny was concerned. She sat up in the bed and looked at me angrily, "And how the fuck do you know that? I suppose you read minds now too?"

I smirked in response. "Don't call it mind-reading. It's Legilimency. And yes, I know how to use it. But I don't unless it's necessary and I know the other person won't feel me probing their mind. Blaise certainly would. I just know Blaise. He and I will fight like it's the end of the world, but when something happens, like when you disappeared, we're always there for the one another. That's why Blaise found me that morning in the corridor. He knew innately that something was wrong. Besides, Blaise wants to prolong my life as much as you do."

"And why does he want that? He was willing to destroy your life a few weeks ago." Ginny snapped, still not convinced.

I told her what I really knew about Blaise, about the darkness hiding behind his beautiful smile, and that I was the only thing that really kept him tethered to sanity. Whenever he was about to step over the edge, I was always there to pull him back and I was the only one he had ever trusted with that knowledge. Blaise was secretly terrified of the insanity he constantly felt creeping forward, of the darkness he felt leaking into his mind. He would do anything to not lose his mind.

Ginny was, for once, speechless. I could tell by the shocked expression on her pretty face that she'd had no suspicions about him. "Blaise is a good actor." I commented as I watched her struggle with the realization.

After a few moments, she just simply curled back against my body and whispered, "Fuck."

I once again stood in the Room of Requirement, this time having asked it for a place to hold a secret meeting. A meeting with all of the people I could trust in the world. I looked at the two other people and smirked in amusement, I'd always known I had trust issues, but damn, who knew that at the end of my life that the number of people I could really depend on would be so small?

"It's so weird, actually, seeing you two together." Blaise commented from where he was perched on a sofa.

"Almost as weird as it is seeing you without a girl attached to your face, Blaise." Ginny commented back, glancing at him teasingly.

Blaise laughed and smiled good-naturedly and, for once, I think he meant his smile. A plan began to form in my head, but we had bigger things to worry about now. "Voldemort recently contacted me. He was upset with what he called a 'clear lack of effort in achieving our mutual goal'. So, I've decided that I should probably appear to be trying to kill Dumbledore while actually setting up the Death Eaters. That means I need to stage a few failed attempts. Any ideas?"

They sat for a moment, Ginny twisting her red hair around her fingers as she thought. Blaise's handsome face was scrunched in concentration. I paced the room, my footsteps echoing on the wooden flooring.

"Poison's always a good option." Ginny suggested.

Of course she would suggest that, after all, potions was a hobby we shared.

I thought about it for a moment, "That could work. But how do we make it seem like we're trying to kill him without actually killing him?"

We were stumped for a while, each of us staring into space as different scenarios played out in our heads. And then, Blaise spoke up, "Draco, none of us know how to do this. Look at us, what are our specialties?"

I immediately named them off as I looked them, "I'm good at analysis and predicting people's next moves, you could talk the Minister of Magic into giving you his ministry, and I suspect that Ginny would be excellent with planning and executing distractions."

He nodded solemnly as if he'd already known the answers, "None of us is any good with planning things of this magnitude. You know who's really great at things like this? Betrayal and backstabbing?"

Damn. I immediately saw it. He was right– there was no other option. I nodded my head slowly and swallowed past a lump in my throat. "Fine. Go wake her up and tell her about everything."

Blaise left almost the instant I said it. Ginny looked at me with a reserved, concerned look, "Draco… Who's he getting?"

I nodded again, confirming what she'd already suspected.

"Pansy? Are you fucking kidding me? What possible reasoning could you have behind her helping you? She would most definitely be happier with you dead."

"I know, but there's no way to help it. I have some blackmail on her, though, and I'm going to share it with you and eventually Blaise." I told her about Pansy's father and where I'd hidden the proof. "You knowing this ensures that she will keep her mouth shut. If Pansy's father goes to prison, she loses everything. And the only thing stronger than Pansy's hatred for me is her sense of self-preservation."

"You woke me up for this? Are you fucking kidding me?" Pansy grumbled as we asked her the question.

I rolled my eyes; apparently Pansy valued her beauty sleep more than the lives of innocent people. I should have seen this coming.

"Yeah, we did. Now answer the fucking question." Ginny snapped.

Pansy's eyes narrowed and locked on Ginny. I cursed under my breath as I felt the total bitch fight that was about to take place. Blaise must have felt it too, because we both stepped between the girls at the same time.

Blaise took Pansy by the shoulders and held her there, forcing her to look at him, talking to her in that suave voice that I knew could convince nearly anyone of anything. "Pansy, answer the question. How do we make it look like we're trying to kill Dumbledore without actually doing it? You're going to have to tell us, Pansy. Draco's told us all about your father's crimes. I know where the evidence is."

I hadn't actually had the chance to tell him where I'd hidden it, but that was Blaise, lying through his teeth and taking a leap of faith at the same time.

Pansy's blue eyes darted to mine and narrowed, "You really think I'd stoop that low, Draco? You think I'd associate myself with a bunch of fucking Death Eaters just to kill you?"

I'd seen crazed looks– the insanity that so terrified Blaise– in Pansy's blue eyes before. So, I answered without hesitation, "Yes."

"Then you know nothing about me." She hissed, "I hate them more than you ever will. They killed my mother. Or did you forget?"

I actually had forgotten. It had happened before we'd even joined Hogwarts, but Pansy had told me she'd been there to witness it. No one knew why her mother had been targeted, but it had happened anyway. She was right; in my analysis of her, I'd forgotten the one person Pansy hated more than me–Voldemort.

Pansy turned her face back to Blaise's and spat, "It's fucking obvious, you Neanderthals. If you want to make it seem like you meant to kill someone, you try to kill someone else."

She made sense. A lot of sense. But we couldn't just walk around killing innocent people.

Ginny voiced my thoughts, "That's not an option. We can't kill anyone."

Pansy grinned, "Aw, you sweet little Gryffindor. Still so naïve and innocent."

"She's right, Pansy, we can't kill anyone." I said.

Her grin falling, Pansy grumbled. "Fine. Blaise said you wanted to try poisoning, so the only way I see to make that safe is to poison your victim in front of someone who could easily save them."

"Slughorn." I immediately said. Slughorn was the potions teacher. "Slughorn is the only one who would have the ingredients to save whomever we poison."

"What about Snape?" Blaise asked.

"No, Snape wouldn't have brought any of his potions supplies to school, not since he's the new Dark Arts teacher. Besides, I wouldn't trust Snape not to figure it out. We'll be using a poison that takes a while to kill. If we wanted to really kill someone, wouldn't we give them something that works immediately? It would take Snape five minutes to figure that out and report to Voldemort. The man's a genius." I said, thinking out loud more than actually answering Blaise's question.

"We should plan at least two attempts, shouldn't we? I mean, you plan to bring in the Death Eaters around June, but it's only November. You'll need at least one other faked murder attempt." Ginny murmured, her face thoughtful.

I grinned at Blaise, "I told you she'd be great with distractions. Okay, what's another way we could kill someone?"

The room was silent for a moment and then we all simultaneously burst into laughter; how nonchalant we were being about the entire ordeal.

"We could curse someone." Blaise suggested.

I thought about it and then found a few flaws with that plan. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pansy already shaking her head, agreeing with me as I said, "Cursing someone is too direct. It doesn't look like an accident."

Smirking in delight, Pansy added, "But we could give them a cursed object…" Her sentence trailed off, letting me know she was thinking of something particular.

Ah, yes, Borgin and Burkes. I'd seen the cursed necklace in one of their display cases while threatening to order Fenrir Greyback to kill Borgin. "We could steal that necklace from Borgin using the cupboard. He doesn't know it's fixed yet. We can't buy it, just in case anyone happens to ask who purchased it from him."

"There's one problem with that. You'll have to erase the memory of whomever you give it to." Ginny spoke up.

Blaise lifted a curious eyebrow, "So?"

My lovely Red gave my friends a mischievous, superior grin from the seat she was perched on as she crossed her legs and tossed her hair behind a shoulder. "So, Harry's going to be onto you the minute they announce someone in the castle was cursed. You know he's always been looking for a reason to get you expelled, Draco. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to steal your wand and see the spells you've been casting."

Of course, Potter would be a problem. "So, I can't be the one to cast the Confundus Charm. And neither can Pansy or Blaise. He'll suspect them next. Which leaves…"

"Which leaves me." Ginny said, smiling uncomfortably at the thought of being so mixed up in this fuckwad of a situation.

Pansy gave me another malicious grin. "It seems we have a winner."


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I sat in the Room of Requirement with Pansy and Blaise, each of us tensely waiting for Ginny to return from handing off the necklace to a victim of opportunity. Just before she'd left, we'd gone over the plan once again. She would head into Hogsmeade, choose a restaurant, and wait in the bathroom for the next girl to walk in. When she did, she would put her under the Imperius curse and order her not to touch the necklace, but to deliver it directly to Dumbledore. I knew it would never get there; it would probably be confiscated by Filch along the way, but that way it would be discovered and the Dark Lord would eventually hear about it.

This subject had had to be put to a vote. Pansy was insistent that the girl should touch the necklace to make it seem realistic, but we couldn't risk that. We couldn't leave a death toll. We were trying to save innocent lives, not destroy them.

Eventually, Ginny and I had decided that we couldn't let the girl touch it and Blaise, bless him, agreed. I knew exactly why he'd chosen that option over Pansy's.

Blaise had a sadistic streak; it was part of the insanity he was so often running from. He often made choices that contradicted that nature, as if to spite his darkness, to provoke it, or even to try to hold it at bay. I wasn't sure his exact motives when he made decisions like that, I just knew he made them. Pansy, however, had never made any steps to contain that dark, malicious streak she occasionally let show. She embraced it.

As I was analyzing my friends, the door burst open. The three of us each stood immediately, drawing our wands at person entering. Ginny looked at us with large, shocked eyes. Realizing we weren't about to be horribly tortured by the Dark Lord for our betrayal, we pocketed our wands and sat down again.

It was then that I noticed Ginny's face. She was crying.

I jumped out of my seat again, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Ginny stumbled into the room and began telling us what happened.

She'd given Katie Bell the necklace, feeling horrible about using her Quidditch teammate, but really having no other option as she couldn't let Katie remember she'd been suspiciously standing in the bathroom with a strange parcel. She'd quickly put her under the Imperius curse, telling her to leave the package with Dumbledore. Katie's eyes had emptied and she'd nodded mindlessly before taking the package and leaving the bathroom.

Ginny had eventually followed her, watching from a distance as Katie walked back to the castle. Suddenly, Katie's friend, Leanne, began asking questions about the package she was holding. Katie refused to answer, jerking away as Leanne tried to take the parcel. They'd wrestled for it and it had ripped apart. For a moment, everything was silent, the snow falling gently on the ground as the two girl stared at one another.

And then, Katie was lifted into the air, her head falling back as her mouth opened in an unheard scream, her arms and legs extended as if she was trying to make snow angels while suspended in the air. Ginny stood, frozen in fear as Harry, Hermoine, and Ron raced forward to try to help Katie. Hagrid intervened, carrying the girl back to the castle.

Ginny had headed straight to the Room of Requirement to see us.

Silence filled the room for a moment until I broke it. "Fuck!"

Ginny continued to cry silently as Blaise buried his head in his hands, fighting the demons in his mind that were doing a dance of sadistic glee. Pansy barely reacted, her expression neutral.

I began pacing back and forth across the room, wondering what in the fuck to do. Eventually, Pansy grabbed my arm, her hands tightening and jerking me toward her as I tried to walk away. She stood and faced me, "Draco! Snap the fuck out of it! There isn't anything we can do. What's done is done. There's no point in losing sleep over it. Besides, this is even better." She gave me a cunning grin.

I briefly thought about slapping her. I wanted to backhand her across the fucking room. But I couldn't. A show of so much violence would only scare Ginny, piss off Pansy, and excite Blaise.

I needed to keep them in my control. I looked at the three of them. Ginny was sitting in the same position, her legs drawn up protectively against her chest as tears fell silently down her face in a river of guilt. Blaise was still clutching his head, his knuckles white where they gripped, and nearly yanked out, his hair. In his shoulders, I could see the tension that the war in his mind was causing. I returned my gaze to Pansy, her blue eyes alight as she grinned cleverly up at me.

When I spoke, I fought to contain the fury that I wanted so badly to unleash on her. Someone had to stay in control here, and I certainly couldn't count on my friends to do it. "And why, Pansy, is us accidentally injuring and nearly killing a girl something we could benefit from?"

She flashed another superior smile and whispered "It's more realistic, Draco. It's so much more believable than a stupid girl simply leaving a deadly package for the headmaster. Dumbledore is a genius. He's got to know by now that Voldemort wants him dead. He wouldn't have opened that package, a package left anonymously at his desk. He would have cast some sort of spell to see what was inside. But now, we've got a girl who was seriously injured and under the Imperius curse. Now, what would she have done with that necklace? No one has any idea. All they can do is speculate. But the Dark Lord will hear about it and he will know you were behind it and he will think it was a fantastic, well-thought out plan ruined by some stupid girl. Don't you see, Draco? It all works perfectly."

No. In all honesty, I couldn't have seen that without Pansy's help. When it came down to it, Pansy was better than me at this–whatever it was that we were doing– betrayal, deviousness. But, I understood now what she was saying. There was still one tiny problem. "Pansy, we nearly killed someone today. That _cannot_ happen again. Do you understand?"

Pansy nodded grudgingly and retreated back to her seat.

I turned to Blaise and Ginny, "But Pansy's right. What happened was a mistake. It couldn't be helped. Ginny, this isn't your fault."

Ginny nodded, but I knew my words weren't helping. Just like I knew that if she'd told me the same thing, I wouldn't have believed her. But there was a difference between she and I.

This really was my fault.

I'd been the one who'd gotten them together, who had orchestrated the entire thing, who had asked Ginny to attack the first person who entered the bathroom. I should have told her to attack someone who was walking back to the castle alone. None of this would have happened if I'd done that.

I should have seen this coming.

Analysis was my job. I was supposed to predict everyone's actions. I'd failed.

I'd been the one to put Katie in the hospital.

The next morning, I sat silently at the breakfast table with Blaise. He gave me a charming smile that almost prevented me from seeing the haunted look in his eyes. Almost.

I knew I should talk to Blaise, but for what seemed to be the first time in my life, I was lost for words. There was a war going on in his mind, I knew, but I couldn't think of a way to alleviate it. How could I help my friend fight off the bloodlust that was his natural form, which had been taught to him by the only parent he'd ever known?

I didn't know. But I promised myself that I would think about it. I hadn't slept the past night; whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Katie Bell, floating in the air as Ginny had described her. Except in that vision, printed permanently on the back of my eyelids, Katie's eyes weren't closed in pain. They were staring accusingly at me.

Katie had been sent to St. Mungo's to be healed, but I knew it would be a long time until she was back to normal.

Christmas break was fast approaching, as were the midterm exams. Ginny, Blaise, and I threw ourselves into our studying to avoid the dark thoughts that now plagued us. Pansy didn't need to.

Pansy was stronger than the rest of us. She knew how to compartmentalize, how to take those feelings and thoughts and just push them aside. I think it's because of her witnessing her mother's murder at such a young age. Or maybe she didn't have feelings at all.

She wouldn't be the first of my friends to be diagnosed as a psychopath.

No, I think Pansy experienced emotions. She wasn't nearly as insane as Blaise would become some day. Her sadistic streak was extreme, though. Especially when it came to her mother's murderers.

I was quickly realizing that I had some fucked-up friends.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Christmas break was the worst few weeks of my life. My mother may have snapped out of her comatose state, but she still wasn't back to being the vibrant, beautiful woman of my childhood.

I suppose every single person must one day wake up to the realization that their childhood heroes are simply normal, mortal people. I guess that's what growing up is all about– realizing that there are no heroes and villains. People are much more complex than that. There is no good versus evil, no black and white. Everything is grey. I was beginning to realize that no person ever acts without reason. Blaise was driven by his internal war, his instincts versus his conscience. Ginny was driven by the twisted past she rarely spoke of– the evil tango she'd once danced in her mind with the Dark Lord himself. Pansy was driven by a cold revenge. Even Voldemort, the most twisted of all wizards, was driven by reason. I knew about his past; Snape had told me the terrible secrets long ago– to put it simply, he'd been abandoned to an abusive orphanage. Growing up with no parents to protect him from the damage, he'd been changed irrevocably at a young age, much like Pansy. It had been inevitable that he would lash out at his source of abuse– muggles and those he deemed inferior to himself.

Another part of growing up is realizing that there are no superpowers, we are simply human, all of us, trying to navigate our way through this world. And there are certainly no elixirs of life. We all must die at some point.

My time would be up in half a year.

I spent the break thinking about what I'd accomplished within my lifetime. In truth, I wasn't entirely sure that, at the end of it, the number of years we had lived was what mattered. I think that what matters most is what, when we're put six feet under the ground, we've accomplished with the short amount of time we've been given. Every man, woman, and child on this earth is given a different path, a different set of values, and a different amount of time to achieve what they want. It doesn't seem fair, that some of us must suffer at the hands of others, that some of us must die young while others live to become withered and brittle with age. No, it isn't fair; life isn't fair. But who the hell are we going to complain to about it? I certainly haven't seen a complaint desk anywhere around here.

If there was one, I'm sure the queue would be miles long with people willing to waste their time, years of their precious time, the time that isn't guaranteed to any of us, just to register a few complaints with whomever is listening.

But when death came knocking unexpectedly at our doors, did our ages really matter at all? Or were they simply numbers? Could experience be absorbed all the same no matter the dates of our births and deaths? And could the same be said for the amount of good–or harm– we did this world? I don't think it particularly matters, how old we are when we pass on.

At least, that's what I told myself throughout Christmas break. I couldn't bear to think of all the experiences I would be missing out on. The simple thought of never being able to run away with Ginny, as I had told her so many nights ago in the corridor where we first began to meet, brought be to my knees and made me rethink my entire plan.

Mercifully, the break ended swiftly. The Dark Lord had sent a few messages, but hadn't insisted on speaking in person. I hadn't been able to visit with Ginny either; we'd both agreed that in this stage of the plan, after we'd nearly murdered a classmate, it was much too risky. Especially with Potter nosing about in our business. Didn't that prick have better things to do? Shouldn't he be out doing something, like saving the world from destruction? From what I could tell, I was the one doing the saving and I most certainly had a more well thought out plan than he did.

I wasn't entirely present during my first day of classes, due to unforeseen events. They were unforeseen, of course, because while I may be able to predict the movements of my friends and family based on their histories, even I cannot tell the future. Divination is bullshit, as we all know.

I was sitting at the table, watching Blaise as he ate breakfast and conversed with Daphne. She whispered something in his ear and, for a split second, I saw Blaise's entire body go rigid. Then, Daphne leaned back, laughing as she tossed her blonde hair behind a shoulder, and Blaise's posture was once again relaxed. He flashed her another one of his disarming smiles. We made eye contact over the table and I frowned at him, as if to let him know that I'd seen it. I don't know what it was, but I knew it was a puzzle piece that I'd somehow missed all these years. He turned his charming smile on me, flashing his pearly whites and exuding the confidence that I knew he used as a shield. As he did so, I began second guessing myself.

Had I actually seen it? It was so quick, it was as if it had really never happened.

I continued to watch him and eventually, the same thing happened again. Daphne innocently leaned over to whisper something in his ear, her thick hair swinging to veil her face from me. As she did, I watched Blaise's hands. They clenched around his knife and fork, the knuckles as white as they'd been the night in the Room of Requirement as he'd nearly pulled his hair out in his fight for control over his natural instincts.

I knew then that what I'd seen was true. Every time Daphne moved closer to him, the monster inside Blaise reared its ugly head. But why? What was motivating it to appear just then? There was something I'd clearly missed; it wasn't surprising, really. I'd never used my mealtimes to analyze Blaise's activities, not when I had other, more interesting subjects like Ginny and Potter.

If only I could know what was going through his head when this happened.

And then, I realized, I could know.

Oh, Blaise was going to be so fucking pissed.

I watched Blaise for a while longer until he glanced back at me, wondering if I'd seen it again. I sure as fuck had seen it. I struck, pushing into his mind with my own, forcing my way in. His reflexes were slowed by surprise; he hadn't expected such an invasion of privacy from me, of all people. And then, I felt the rage. He flung barriers up in his mind, but he was too late; I'd already latched on.

I peeled back his defenses, pushing them down forcefully until I was firmly planted in his mind, seeing things from his perspective.

And my god, was it horrible.

The next time Daphne leaned in to whisper in Blaise's ear, I saw what was happening inside his mind. As she got closer, an image flashed across his vision– he grabbed her head between both of his hands, gripping her face with his strong fingers, and quickly snapped her neck, dropping her body onto the breakfast table. In a second, it was gone, but it still had its effects.

He could see everything that would have happened had he given into his instincts. He saw it so clearly, it was as if he was living in that world, rather than reality. In his mind, a vision of that possible path flashed through his mind. He tore through the dining hall like an animal, a monster, killing always with his hands, rather than his wand. And with each death, each murder, every drop of blood spilled and neck broken, the feeling of release and pleasure deepened in his stomach.

Even I had to admit, it was the most amazing feeling I'd ever experienced. And then, at the end of his vision, the blood in his vision cleared, the crimson haze fading. He stared down at his hands, covered in scarlet, and then fell to his knees when he saw what lay at his feet. It was me. I was dead, a ruby slit at my throat, lying on the ground.

As if this experience needed to become any more surreal for me.

The guilt of causing my death took Blaise's breath away; he lay on the ground and sobbed, resting his face in a pool of blood, no longer wanting to carry on.

Finally, mercifully, the vision ended. Blaise snapped back to reality and tuned in to whatever nonsense Daphne was rattling on about. He made eye contact with me once again and this time, he didn't smile, knowing there was nothing, no distracting grin, that could make me forget what I'd just witnessed.

I would never be able to erase the feeling of absolute craving, of addiction, of bloodlust from my mind. I would never expunge those thoughts that had seeped into my mind from his–those visions of giving into the need to kill. And that feeling, that feeling of being able to lose his entire grip on reality and simply slip into another fantasy, as if he was simply opening a door from one room to another, as if nothing _really_ existed– I would never be able to rid that from my mind. It had fused to my being as easily as it had fused to his.

I watched the rest of the day unfold from Blaise's mind. I witnessed thousands of deaths, spectating as he slipped into separate realities. I was unable to do anything but watch and, I think in way, that was enough for Blaise.

At the end of the day, he looked relieved to have me finally leave his mind, but also, he seemed to have a deeper sense of satisfaction. Blaise was thankful to have had a witness, for once, to his insanity. It was a plague of his mind that he would never have been able to voice himself. It was a terror only expressible by actions.

There was one moment, however, in which Blaise had found peace. A moment that stuck out clearly in my mind. Blaise's automatic reaction to having anyone near him was to strike out and massacre them. Except for two people. The first was me, which I'd been surprised, but pleased about.

The second was even more surprising.

Ginny.

Blaise had found us both to be calming mediums, a momentary reprieve from his mind, when everything in his head felt normal. I wasn't sure why it was us, what Ginny and I had in common, but I was damn sure I would figure it out now. In the meantime, a plan I'd been forming for a while was coming together quite nicely.

**A/N: Special thanks to the reader Hatebelow for giving me the idea for this chapter; if this has good reception, I may work a few more like this into the story.**

**Happy almost Thanksgiving to my readers in the States. If don't live in the U.S. or don't celebrate Thanksgiving for whatever reason, I hope you have a good weekend and I'm sad you don't celebrate a holiday entirely centered around consuming copious amounts of food. It truly is fantastic.**

**Katy**


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"So he's actually homicidal? That's what's wrong with him?" Ginny looked at me, biting her lip as her brows furrowed in concern. I didn't think the expression really fit the situation, but then again, what was your face supposed to look like when you learned one of your friends wanted to literally kill everyone in the school?

"Pretty much. And he's… so stuck in his head. It's hard to explain, but it's like he can barely tell reality from fantasy. Every time I watched him kill someone in his head, it was like he could see all the repercussions, like he was _living_ them. Like he was living in that possible future."

This made Ginny laugh. She rolled over onto her back, pulling the sheet away from me. I gave her a low, unhappy growl and frowned at her reaction.

She glanced at me and her smile immediately faded; propping herself on one elbow to face me, she apologized, "I'm sorry, this really isn't funny. But it's so ironic!"

I lifted an eyebrow as I rolled on my side to mimic her posture on the bed. "What's ironic?" I really didn't see any irony.

She puckered her lips and furrowed her brows in a strange face and murmured in a lower voice, her words more enunciated than her usual hurried way of clustering her words together, "Divination is such shit!"

I raised an eyebrow and laughed, "Oh, is that supposed to be me?"

She smiled and nodded, "It's ironic that you detest any mention of premonition, but one of the signs of your best friend's insanity is that he can kind of see different futures."

I thought about it and shook my head, "I think it just proves that I'm right; it is shit. Only crazy people think they can see what will happen."

She stopped smiling and looked at me thoughtfully. After a moment, she spoke, "But does being able to see the consequences of his actions really make him crazy?"

I smirked, "Of course it does, Gin."

She looked even more troubled and gave me a serious look, her brown eyes dark. "But how different is that from what you do, really?"

"It's time to strike again." I spoke to the only three people in the world who knew what I was truly planning.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, her brown eyes worried. I understood why she still felt nervous about doing it again; we'd nearly killed Katie Bell last time. I'd been told earlier that Katie was supposed to come back to school in a few days.

I nodded, folding my hands behind my back and pacing back and forth along the wooden floors of the Room of Requirement. "We can't wait any longer. The Dark Lor–_He's_ going to start asking questions." I was trying to rid myself of the habit of referring to Voldemort as The Dark Lord. It seemed so… _subservient_. Bowing down to him was one of the last things I was interested in. Not after what he'd done to my family, what he was trying to do to me. Fuck him.

I shook my head and brought my thoughts back on task.

Pansy spoke from where she lay carelessly on a couch. "So what's the modus operandi we're using for this one?"

I gave Pansy a knowing look, "That's where you come in."

She tossed her head back onto the cushions of the couch and stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully, her blue eyes serious. After a long while, she spoke, "Well… we could set something on fire."

"No."

"Basilisk?"

I gave her a confused look, "Where would we even get a basilisk?"

"So what you're saying is you _aren't_ the Heir of Slytherin?" Pansy asked inquisitively.

My god. It had been three or four years and my friends still didn't believe I wasn't the one to set the giant snake loose in the castle for half a semester. I made eye contact with Ginny; she looked a bit sick. With a pang of irritation, I answered Pansy forcefully, "No, definitely not."

She gave me another curious look, one eyebrow raised, and paused for a long moment before her head fell back on the couch and she continued naming off random ways to kill people.

She snapped her fingers and sat up, her face excited. "We could arrange for the armor to attack someone!"

I had to admit, it was creative. But not something we needed. Especially not with Blaise around. I cast a look at my insane best friend; he was in the same position I'd seen last time, the one I'd come to learn meant he was fighting the demons of his mind. His fists looked as if they'd pull chunks of his hair out at any moment. No, we definitely didn't need him to see any blood being spilled.

"Absolutely not. We need something less messy."

"Spell gone awry conveniently near Dumbledore?"

"No. Not subtle enough."

"How is that not subtle? Accidents happen here all the time! This is probably the most dangerous school in Europe. We have a homicidal tree in the back yard!" Pansy's voice was incredulous.

"We nearly killed someone last time. We need a controlled environment. It needs to be sneaky."

"We could kidnap someone using the secret tunnels beneath the school." Pansy suggested.

Ginny's head swung around to stare at Pansy, her brown eyes suspicious, "How do _you_ know about the secret tunnels?"

I gave Ginny a patient look and tapped the silver and green tie loosely knotted around my neck. "Nearly everyone in Slytherin knows about them. They don't describe us as cunning for nothing. We know every secret of Hogwarts there is to know. And Pansy, that's one of the least subtle things you've suggested. I can see the widespread panic now."

I made awkward eye contact with Ginny and she gave me a knowing look, as if she was pointing back and forth from my last few words to the conversation we'd had in bed, trying to get me to realize the similarities. I returned her look with one of my own that clearly said I fucking understood.

"Wide spread panic? Not if we _accidentally_ kidnapped one of the Hufflepuffs. No one would even notice." Pansy retorted.

"The Hufflepuffs don't need to get involved in this Pansy. They're a worthless bunch of shits, yes, but if they get caught in the crossfire, they'll only become curse fodder. It would be a fucking massacre."

"What do you care? You're dating a fucking Gryffindor!" Pansy snapped, gesturing to Ginny's red head.

I shrugged, "They're so child-like– naïve and defenseless. I just feel an overwhelming need to protect them for some reason." Throwing her a pointed look, I continued, "Now, what's the most subtle, controlled way you can think of killing someone? No frills. Nothing that would cause panic or raise suspicion."

She heaved a great, long sigh as if to show me exactly how irritated she was with me. Her hands dropped beside her on the couch and the way she spoke let me know she'd already thought of this but didn't want to use it: "Fine. We'll poison him. But it's so boring and unoriginal. You didn't need me for that. You and Ginny are both potions geniuses, aren't you?"

She was right. I'd just been hoping Pansy would be able to find another way. How many students in this school could properly brew a complex poison? Not many, I'd venture to guess.

"And how do we ensure no one dies this time?"

"Well, who would be smart enough to test for poisons?" Pansy said it as if she knew the answer and was simply leading us to it, rather than telling us.

Ginny's eyebrows flew upwards, "Slughorn. And he's been looking for a present for Dumbledore."

Blaise had finally snapped out of his mind and back into his usual self. He was sprawled comfortably in an armchair and turned to look at Ginny with a sardonic look, "And how would you know that?"

"If you managed to drag your lazy ass to the Slug Club meetings once in a while, Zabini, or maybe even to class, you'd learn a few things." Ginny retorted.

"_Learn?_"Blaise looked as if he would choke on the word. "What do you mean by _learn_?"

Ginny gave him a cool look and recited, "Learn: to gain or acquire knowledge."

Blaise gave her a blank look for a moment and then grunted, "Huh. Guess you learn something every day." He then whipped out a lighter and lit a cigarette, retreating to a far corner of the room to smoke.

Their banter nearly made me laugh and once again, that plan popped up in my head. I pushed it down and reminded myself to work on it later. I gave Blaise an irritated look for smoking inside, but let it slide; I knew how much he needed it right now.

Turning to Ginny, I asked, "So you know for a fact that Slughorn wants to buy Dumbledore a gift?"

She nodded, "He talks about it all the time, how he feels he needs to buy the great wizard a gift, but doesn't know what such a fantastic wizard needs. It's like he doesn't even realize we all know Dumbledore. Bragging about giving the greatest wizard in the world a gift here really isn't a big fucking deal. God, Sluggy, why don't you brag more about Gwenog Jones? There's something I could give a shit about! That woman has a God-given gift. I could probably pick up some Quidditch tips if the old slug was half as eager to brag about _her. _God dammit! The only reason I joined the stupid club was because he name-dropped her and he hasn't said two words about her since. What's a girl got to do to hear stories about her childhood hero's school days? Fuck!" She gave a huff as she finished her rant against the potions master.

I smirked a bit at Ginny's unprompted rant before turning back to brainstorming. "And what's a way we could give it to him without raising suspicion?"

A few days later, the plan was set. I would approach Slughorn during the next outing to Hogsmeade, while disguised, and sell him poisoned mead. But, fate had other plans.

I walked into the dining hall to see a new face– or rather an old one, one which had haunted my dreams the past few months. Katie Bell had returned to Hogwarts. Her face was pale and thin, but as she looked around at her friends, she smiled. I made eye contact with Ginny across the hall and she frowned at me, her face concerned. Suddenly, I felt all of the weight that was lying on my shoulders; it felt as if I was carrying the world on my thin back. What had I gotten myself into? The fates of my mother, my father, my best friend, my girlfriend, and my ex-girlfriend-turned-worst-enemy-turned-tentative-friend (really, our relationship was incredibly complicated) all lay in my hands. I had been assigned to kill the most powerful wizard in the world and had decided to instead conspire against Voldemort himself. I couldn't handle this. But what choice did I have? I only had two choices really– I could die, or I could die. The only differences were my choices leading up to my inevitable death.

My hands began to sweat and my head started pounding in rhythm with my heart.

I was going to faint.

I couldn't get enough air and the walls seemed to be closing in. I walked as calmly as possible from the dining hall. As the heavy wood doors closed behind me, I took off at a sprint, trying to find a safe haven. I flew through the halls until I found myself in a third floor bathroom.

My hands gripped the cool sides of the sink as I struggled to keep the ground beneath my feet from turning upside down. I pressed my face against the mirror, the chill of the glass feeling nice against my sweaty skin. Struggling to breathe, I loosened my tie and focused on taking deep breaths, staring at one point on the mirror. Maybe if I didn't move, I would be okay.

Maybe.

Probably not.

I recognized the symptoms, having seen my mother suffer from attacks like this during my childhood. I was in a state of panic. For a brief moment, my head was clear enough for me to wonder at the ridiculously late timing of my panic attack, and then I was overcome once again with the inability to breathe.

I focused my eyes once again on that point on the mirror and when I did, I saw a familiar figure.

Harry Potter.

I cursed; what's a guy got to do to get a fucking break around this school? Couldn't I just have my panic attack without my arch nemesis insisting on making an appearance?

I clutched my wand and swung around to glare at that scar-faced asshole, while simultaneously praying I wouldn't faint in front of him. I'd never hear the end of it if I did.

When he spoke, his accusation echoed off the marble floors, heavy with the truth. "I know what you did Malfoy. You hexed her, didn't you?"

My stomach sank. He was onto us. Of course, he probably didn't know about Ginny's involvement. And it would fucking stay that way. If I was going down, I wasn't going down without a fight and I sure as hell wasn't bringing Ginny down with me.

I threw a curse at him and watched as he dodged behind the stalls of the bathroom. I hit the floor when he reciprocated with an attack of his own, shattering the glass mirror I had just been standing in front of. Another curse flew out of my wand toward where he hid behind the stalls, smashing through the wood and blowing up a toilet. Water began to overflow onto the ground and as I ran, I could hear the splashing beneath my feet.

The last thing I heard was Potter's voice as he savagely yelled, "Sectumsempra!" His curse was quickly followed by the sound of my flesh being torn apart.

I passed out.


End file.
